Trampled Roses
by Around here somewhere
Summary: Olivia never gave in to Defiance – because Cyrus never brought her on the campaign. Because she wasn't on the campaign – Fitz lost. So how else would our lovely dream couple come to meet each other? A crisis, obviously. What happens when Olivia's old friend Cyrus calls her in the middle of the night – and needs her to get on a flight to California?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not have any claims to Scandal or these wonderful characters Shonda Rhimes has created...I just like playing around with them. Also, neither am I at all to thank for Michael Jackson's Thriller... or the creation of the universe, or those delicious things called Goldfish Crackers (I don't know, just thought you guys might be wary of that)...

WARNING: So this is going to be moderately violent, just a head's up. (Consider this your friendly 'viewer discretion' notice)

A/N: So I'm just going to put this out here, and I'll tell myself I won't update it until one of my other stories is done, but I think you all know the chances of that are fairly slim...though I don't know... Enjoy :)

PROLOGUE (Cyrus Beene):

**SANTA BARBARA, CA: _January 20__th_**

Cyrus Beene rolled over in his sleep, still perfectly asleep and mumbling incoherently with his face pressed into the pillow. His room was dark, and he was alone. The house that he had bought in California after the failed bid for his friend's presidency - his failed attempt to become the White House Chief of Staff. It was a small house, on a quiet dirt road, and he liked it there because it was a dead end street. There was something ironic to that, his life seemed to be full of dead ends: dead-end relationships, dead-end candidates, dead-end everything. There were also no children on the street, which was always a plus as far as he was concerned. He rolled over again, this time maybe not so in his sleep.

He rolled over onto his back, his pajama shirt sticking to his slightly overweight frame. He hated the heat – it was January for Christs' Sakes – the worst Indian Summer he could remember, he hated sleeping alone, he hated not being in Washington, and he hated a whole lot more than that. He lay there, flat on his back, unwilling or incapable of moving, but really – he was too depressed to care. He had lost the presidency – the power, the ability to make big changes and scare the shit out of people – doing what he loved. And, he had lost James. Well, it wasn't like he had died, but while Cyrus was too busy to grovel to get him back he had run off with some sports reporter. He wasn't sure which hurt worse. As he was staring up at his ceiling, watching an ant crawl around – it was pretty clear that it didn't matter.

He had moved out there to be close to one of his only remaining friends, Fitz. And while he had lost the election this time, who knew? Maybe they could rally up together and run again. There were plenty of presidents that had to run for office more than once before getting it – there was Harrison, Taft, Nixon – oh who was he kidding? Fitz wasn't going to run again. He had been humiliated – he was losing from the start of the campaign to the end. Anyways, Fitz would have been a once around the ballroom type of president – he would have hated the job. Cyrus knew that – he didn't have the heart for it – but Cy did. He just didn't have the six foot, two inch height with the nice hair and winning smile. He was also gay, so there was that too. It might be 2012, but there was still too much hate and fear for him, depressingly. And too much love for golden fly-boys with nice hair – except apparently there wasn't enough love of that either. Never mind who could do a better job.

He didn't even want to start thinking about James.

About to turn over and go back to sleep – or at least try. He hadn't been able to sleep since they lost the election, it was as if something had gone horribly wrong. Like this wasn't the way that things were supposed to go – he wasn't supposed to be here. Alone? Definitely not. He took a deep breath and attempted to cradle his head into a pillow. Wondering just how bad it would be to die. Peacefully, in his sleep. Something nice, something where Fitz would get up and give him a hero's eulogy. That might be nice – his nice placid, fond thoughts of death were interrupted as his phone started ringing, rather obnoxiously on his nightstand.

"._...Cause this is Thriller! Thriller night... And no one's going to save you from the beast about to strike.._."

He blamed Gerry, Fitz's six year old son for messing with his ring tone. He cursed the child, and vowed to never again allow him to play around on his phone – no matter how much he pouted or whined about it. No matter what kind of dirty looks that Fitz and Mellie gave him for not being kind to a kid. Furthermore, not being kind to his Godson.

"Hello?" He answered, annoyed already, because it was almost eleven – and he wanted to be sleeping.

"Cy," It was Fitz, he sounded out of breath, scared – or something else, "I need you to come to the Ranch – something's happened."

He furrowed his brow, and was about to open his mouth and say something, but the line cut off. He sighed, and rolled out of bed. It wasn't like he was going to be getting all that much sleep tonight anyways. There was also a very cold chill that ran down his spine, thinking about how Fitz's voice had sounded on the phone. Something was wrong. He threw on his clothes from earlier that day, that he had just left in a heap on the floor – and headed out to his car. There was something in the air – like it had been chilled since he had eaten his dinner out on his patio. Damned house, always magnified the heat to just make it hotter.

However, by the time he was turning down the Grant's street – where their house was the only one on it - the heat – or sudden lack of it, was the last thing on his mind. The whole little dirt road that led up to the house, and was basically the longest driveway in the history of the world, was covered in cop cars. There were blue lights flashing, an ambulance, and dogs pulling officers in the direction of the house. He pulled his car up behind one of the last cars, and spotted three body bags sitting on the grass, blocked from view of the street up on the lawn. He felt a pang in his chest – and brought his hand up to massage it. He turned back around and wandered back into the street.

That was when he spotted Fitz. He was sitting in the back of one of the squad cars, and officer standing right next to his window. There was blood splatter across his handsome face, and his eyes were cold – he was yelling something, but Cyrus couldn't hear him. He seemed to see Cy standing there, looking at him, and he raised up his arms – one was heavily bandaged.

"Cy!" He had no choice but to make it out from reading his lips, "Find the kids."


	2. Sweat & Tears

A/N: Wow, thanks for the comments guys :) Yeah, this one's going to be a bit different than the other ones I've written – I needed something a little different, and it seems you guys did too. Also, I don't own anything to do with the Eric Clapton/Freddie King song "I'm Tore(n) Down" which serves as Olivia's ring tone... Enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter One: Sweat & Tears

**WASHINGTON, D.C.: _January 20__th_**

Olivia was going to have to get used to the D.C. Traffic, though just having moved there from New York she was going to have to get used to driving to work period. She put her coffee cup into the cup holder and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Her new Crisis Management office was literally ten minutes from her apartment, that's why she had chosen to live there. However, this traffic was ridiculous – it hadn't been like this the day before on her way to work. What was so damn special about today? If she had just gotten lucky the past week, she was probably going to have to invest in a bicycle or something. There was no way she was doing this every damn morning. She hit the top of her steering wheel as the clock officially struck nine, and she was officially late. Though, she wasn't sure who she was late for – because it was her office. Though – she still didn't like it. She hated being late. She turned on the radio – surely they would have some clue why it was taking her _this_ long to get to work.

"_...President Elect Reston's motorcade is working it's way down..." _

Of course. She almost laughed at herself, she felt stupid. Today was the Reston's inauguration day. She took a deep breath, and suddenly the traffic jam that she was in the middle of was on its way to being ok. She wasn't sure that she was really going to be ok until she got into work – but at least there was a good reason. She hated to waste time, and she assumed that was her mother's fault. Her mother couldn't get anywhere on time when she was little – they were late to everything. And then she had gone and had Clara – well any dream of being on time for anything then flew out the window.

She tapped her steering wheel impatiently, she had at least told Stephen that she would be in by nine. That was someone who knew that she was running late. And, as the clock struck nine'o'five her phone started ringing in the cup holder that she had tossed it in to – twenty minutes ago, when she had left for her "ten minute" commute. His charming, smiling face popped up on her screen, and she sighed as she answered it.

"I – being the D.C. Newbie that I am – forgot it was inauguration day," She told him before a greeting, "I'm on my way – I'm just going to be a little bit late."

"That's fine," He replied, "I have a feeling it's going to be a slow day, anyways."

Stephen was right, of course. Every day had been slow – but it was going to be that way until they got to be established. That was the way that it was when you were starting a new business. It wouldn't have been if they had been allowed to stay in New York had a non-compete clause. That they had both, rather stupid and naively, signed when they had joined the firm. When Olivia had finally had enough of the boss's antics, she took herself (the firm's top fixer) and her friend, Stephen Finch – who just happened to be the second most successful while working there. However, the non compete meant they couldn't stay in the same state – which left them to choose between LA and Washington.

They had seen a great mixture of clientele in New York, and both of them had agreed that the celebrities – the actresses, the heiresses, the actors even – were the worst to work with. Politicians, however, they were much easier to work with. They always managed to get themselves into the worst sort of situations, and they actually needed to fix whatever the problem was. Public relations were their entire job. An actor like Christian Bale goes on a rant, highly publicized, on set and he gets offered six new movie offers. Any press was good press to them, and if she had to deal with one more heiress – The point was not all press was good press to politicians. Their cases required a whole lot more care, and their recovery was way more vital to their lives.

"Anything?" Olivia barely got the word out, and Stephen shook his head – leaning back in his chair eating his yogurt.

"Nope," He replied, putting his feet up on the desk, "Oh, we got one call this morning."

"That's something."

"It was from Lily Hatchets," He said, and Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Feet down."

"You're the boss," He said, taking them down.

"What'd she do now?" Olivia asked, putting her coffee down on the table,

"Who?"

"Lily."

"Oh, she didn't do anything."

Olivia gave him a look. In the past year they had helped this little heiress keep a hold on her inheritance and trust fund several times over. She had had several incidents, like an addiction to heroin – which she was now over – police finding cocaine in the back of her car – which apparently belonged to her boyfriend at the time, and several nights of pretty heavy partying that they had personally erased from her life. All paid for by her mother - trying to keep it all from the father - so that he wouldn't lose the image of his sweet and innocent little girl.

"Was she trying to get you in bed again?"

"No, thank God," Stephen said, leaning back again, "She heard her favorite 'fixers' had moved down her e – and she's living with 'daddy' now."

"Oh, that poor man," Olivia said, sipping her coffee and Stephen chuckled.

"Anyways," He said, "She invited the two of us to some sort of party tonight."

"A party?" She asked skeptically, and Stephen nodded.

"Her father's apparently throwing one of the after parties for the inauguration ball – she faxed over the guest list – it's pretty impressive," Stephen said, and Olivia looked shocked, "Yeah, I accepted. I figured that's what you would want me to do..."

"That's perfect for getting our name out there," Olivia said, and Stephen nodded.

"Your name," Stephen pointed out, and Olivia nodded again, "So where's this guy you were bringing on board?"

Olivia checked her watch. He wasn't late, yet. Huck was never late, not in the years that she had known him. She had told him to stop by around ten – that she would be able to set him up. He had had a bit of a rough time, she had no idea what had happened to him before she had met him – and it wasn't as if he could really tell her. Even if she did want to know, he was a ghost – he was ex-CIA, that was all she needed to know. She knew what the CIA did, she knew what it meant. She wasn't just another average citizen – she knew a little bit of the under workings of things like the CIA. But this wasn't about her. This was about getting Huck off the street, and since he was unwilling to accept any sort of charity, that meant she was going to have to put him to work.

"Huck," She reminded him, "Did you get all that stuff for his office?"

"You mean the closet?" Stephen asked, giving her a little bit of a incredulous look, "If this guy's such a hot shot – which I have to assume he is with all those computers and monitors and things I just put in there for him – why're we putting him in the closet when we have perfectly good office space available? And, if he's such an old friend of yours, how haven't I met him or heard about him before?"

"He doesn't like being discussed, so I try not to," Olivia said, and Stephen sort of looked taken aback, "And, he predates you – so you wouldn't remember me mentioning him when I met him. He's in the closet, because that's what he'll be most comfortable with. I offered him your office, but he said he'd rather the closet."

"My office?" Stephen asked, looking behind him into the large windowed, easy natural light office that he had been so excited about – that he was excited about still.

"Relax, he didn't want it," Olivia teased him, not giving up on the charade.

She had actually just brought Huck in and told him to find his space. The closet had been completely his idea – and that was fine with her. He was a bit of an odd duck, but that made sense. Most brilliant people, or at least the ones that were as intelligent and innovative as Huck were. She had yet to meet a normal one, so it was just sort of expected. And, as she saw a look of slight discomfort cross Stephen's face, she knew that Huck had arrived. She had made him shave and get a haircut before he would report for work.

"Huck," She said, turning around, and trying to pretend she didn't notice the sound of Stephen nearly spitting out his most recent spoonful of yogurt.

"Olivia."

Huck was a special type of person. He wasn't the tall and handsome sort of guy, like Stephen. He was shorter, a little hunched over – like he had been beaten down to be that way. Stepped on and used a little bit. These were the things that had drawn Olivia to him when she had first seen him. He looked how she felt, on the inside. There was a certain amount of kinship between them, that probably no one else would be able to see. She didn't blame Stephen – she wasn't at all what she looked or how she acted. On the outside she matched Stephen, reasonably attractive, and she knew it– she took care of herself. It wasn't a vanity thing, it was a public relations thing – it was easier to trust a pretty person wearing a smile than a person who looked as beaten down as they were.

"Hey, Huck," She greeted him with a warm smile, and he nodded.

"Is all the stuff I asked for in?" He asked, his voice was low, like the tail of a beaten dog.

"Stephen brought it all in for you," Olivia said, trying to stay warm, "It's just waiting for you to set it all up."

"Stephen," Huck only then just seemed to notice the handsome Scotsman – by heritage only – that was sitting behind her.

"Nice to meet you, Huck." Stephen stood up, abandoning his yogurt cup on the table as he stood and Huck gave him a little half jerk of the head – in acknowledgment.

"I'll be setting up," Huck said, and Olivia nodded – but he stood there still like he was waiting to be dismissed.

"Let us know if there's anything we can do to help," Olivia told him, which he accepted as his dismissal, and he headed over towards his little den of a closet.

"Seriously, Liv?" Stephen asked, his voice in such a hushed whisper the only reason she knew that was what he had said was a combination of the look on his face and reading his lips.

"He's going to be crucial," Olivia admitted to him, he gave her a look, "Trust me."

"I just hope he doesn't want to tag along with us to the party," He said, "If he comes everyone will be running before they even know what we do."

"He's not coming," Olivia replied, and Stephen nodded, "Parties aren't his thing. There's too many people."

"Parties aren't his thing," Stephen repeated, like he was borderline concerned for her mental health.

"Relax, Stephen," Olivia took a deep breath, "He's harmless – I think. He's ex-CIA. He does really good tracking, and he's even better with computer hacking. He'll be useful to us."

"Ok," Stephen asked, taking up his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get a suit for tonight," He replied casually, slipping into his jacket, "It's not like we're doing anything here."

"Fine, but you're on call," She said, it was hard to keep him there when it was so clear that they weren't going to be getting any clients.

He waved over his shoulder as he headed out the door – and Olivia took a deep breath. She looked around at the office and smiled, exhaling. This was good. She was going to do good in this office – and she was finally going to get to do it on her terms. She turned back around and headed into her own private office. The big office. It had a couch, a desk, her computer, and a TV. She had put pictures of herself and some of her more respectable clients from New York on the walls, it instilled confidence. Though, she wasn't sure how confidence instilling it would be if no one ever came through the door. She had picked Washington because they didn't have a well-known Crisis Management option, and they had absolutely no shortages on crises. She had been well-known in New York. She wasn't well-known here yet, but she would be. That was the problem with starting up somewhere knew – it took a while to lay in some roots – right?

"Olivia?" She heard Huck call her from somewhere out in the main area – she logically deduced that it was from the closet.

"Huck?" She said, popping her head into the little room.

"I just need some help with this monitor," He said, holding a wire and he was pointing to a monitor – fresh from it's box that was sitting on the desk that they had shoved in there.

"What am I doing?" She asked, and he picked it up, handing it to her.

"Just hold it for a second, while I wire this up through that shelf," He replied, and she nodded – as he angled it so that it was at a weird angle.

"So why did you choose the closet, again?" Olivia asked him, "You know we have two more beautiful offices that you could choose from."

"I like it in here," He replied, "It's dark – after hours of looking at a screen, the sun hurts your eyes. And it's small – it..."

"Makes you feel more secure," She said, and he nodded, climbing up on the desk.

Olivia was able make up things to do for a couple more hours before she headed out to get a dress for the party – taking Stephen's excuse as she left. Huck stayed, that was part of the deal, that Huck could use the space in the far corner of the area as a bedroom. There was a cot – and she had offered to get him a bed – or at least a futon or a couch – but he had refused. He wanted the cot, that he could roll away and hide in the other, smaller closet during the day. She worried about him, but he knew how to take care of himself. He had for God knew how long, right? She tried to push her troubled friend out of her head as she left for the day.

"Good evening," Stephen said, as he came to her door that night to pick her up for the party, "Have you unpacked anything?"

"No," She replied, going from her kitchen where she was just finishing up a glass of water to grab her purse, "You?"

"I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I hadn't," He replied, and Olivia smiled a little bit – Stephen had his own little ticks, no matter how perfect he attempted to appear, "What?"

"Nothing," She replied, taking a deep breath, "Ready to go?"

"I came to pick you up," He pointed out, and she nodded – leading him out of the apartment building, "Now I just wanted to talk to you about Huck."

"We already had this discussion," She replied, as they climbed into his car, "He's staying."

"He's not a puppy that followed you into the office," Stephen said, and Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Stephen, you'll see – he'll earn his keep," She told him, "Don't worry about it, ok?"

"Well, I just don't want to see the name on the door go from 'Olivia Pope and Associates' to 'Olivia Pope and Her Band of Misfits'."

"Stephen, don't be ridiculous," She said, as they pulled up to the address – the place was packed with cars, "That would never fit nicely on the door."

The party turned out to be a goldmine. Lily somehow convinced her father that she and Stephen were simply friends of hers from New York that had a crisis management firm. She never really comprehended how oblivious some parents could be about their children. Either way, Lily seemed to be doing well. As much as Olivia hated to admit it, even if she was admitting it to herself – the party was a gold mine. The place was crawling with senators, their wives, their girlfriends – in some cases probably both. She owed Lily a whole lot of gratitude, maybe she would handle whatever issue the girl had next on the house. Give her one re-do while she was with her father, out of the reach of her overly helpful mother.

There was of course, the double whammy of the fact that the party wasn't even nearly that bad. It was fun, and she even found herself starting to de-stress about the whole current lack of clients thing. At about midnight, her feet were starting to kill her – and she had to find Stephen to try and escape. Nothing good ever happened after one AM, and it looked like this one was going to go until at least three. She sent up a little prayer that the people that she had managed to talk to would remember her name in the morning. She eventually found Stephen chatting up a couple of senators on the far wall of the main room. After introducing herself as the owner of the firm Stephen had been talking to them about – they headed out, saying good bye to Lily's step-mom, who had been playing a fairly drunken hostess all night long.

Olivia kept catching herself almost drifting off to sleep a couple of times in the car, on the way for Stephen to drop her off at her apartment. Good old Stephen offered to walk her up, but she assured him that she would be fine. Walking into her apartment was like walking with cinder blocks on her feet, and magnets in her eyelids trying to force themselves shut. She had barely gotten out of her shoes, and dress before her head hit the pillow. As soon as it did, she was out for the count.

She dreamt she was sitting with her baby sister, Clara. Clara was younger than she was now, and sitting at the table in her parents' kitchen. Her mother was happy, running around the house doing ordinary chores while the girls ate breakfast. Only, Olivia was fully grown – her normal age. She was looking across the table at Clara, and she was getting younger and younger by the minute. Olivia blinked a couple times, and Clara was a toddler, barely old enough to be sitting alone in a chair. She looked up and over at the door as a bright light was walking towards her –

"_...Well, I'm tore down, I'm almost level with the ground...Well, I feel like this when my baby can't be found..."_

She looked around her room in the dark, and got a fantastic look at the alarm clock on her nightstand. The big red numbers told her that it was just about nearing four AM. Whoever the hell was calling her better have a damn good reason for calling – or else was a client. Was it bad that that was one of the first things on her brain when she was woken up at four in the morning? Shouldn't she not even be able to think coherently – but she had been trained all too well by the clients of New York. When they needed her, they needed her, and they weren't shy about calling. She picked up her phone, and read the display for who was calling.

_CYRUS BEENE_.

Weird. He had been one of her client's handler and personal lawyer in New York years ago, and before that an old friend of the family. But he had abandoned the young the rich and the famous for the world of politics – which had always been his dream. He had gone pretty far with it, too. He had been in charge of Governor Grant, from California's campaign against Reston for president. Of course, he had lost – but he had done an impressive job for his first presidential candidate. She hadn't heard from him – other than to wish her a happy thirtieth birthday a couple months ago – in over a year.

"What?" She answered, a little bit of a smile on her face – it was her usual greeting for Cyrus, "I don't know what time it is out there in California, Cy – but it's four in the morning here."

"Sorry," He sounded less than apologetic, "Liv, I need you to fly out to California, tonight. Immediately. There's been a huge – I can't tell you over the phone. But it's big, Liv, and I need you on it."

"Cy, I'm across the country-"

"But you're the best – I – we. We need the best."

"What're you talking about, Cy?" Olivia asked, "I'm trying to start a new firm here, which means I don't get a whole lot of sleep."

"If you can fix this, you'll have clients knocking down your door," Cyrus said, he sounded winded and upset, "Liv? Will you come?"

"Yes."

"I already booked you on the five AM flight right into Santa Barbara."


	3. I Know Him

A/N: And now I can get into the story... warning it's really really sad - enjoy (?)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Two: I Know Him

Cyrus didn't want to say too much on the phone – and Olivia understood that. It wasn't the first time that she was being pulled out of bed and was flying somewhere without knowing exactly what she was going in to. However, for Cyrus to call her up in the middle of the night, with only an hour's notice to get on her flight – it had to be big. She listened to the news radio in the car on the way to the airport, and there was nothing being reported. Nothing that Cyrus would care about anyways. She had thought she would call Stephen and Huck in the car – leave them messages that she wouldn't be in to work in the morning, that they were on stand by. Depending on how big this was, she might have to fly them in. And she knew Cyrus, if that was the call she was getting, and he was flying her to California basically in the middle of the night – really in the middle of the night for him, there was something drastically wrong. Something big. She ended up listening to the radio all the way to the airport – figuring she'd call Huck and Stephen once she landed in California.

She did, magically, manage to catch a little sleep on the plane. That was probably the best idea that she had had in over a month. She woke up relatively rested by the stewardess, and with the basic knowledge that she probably wouldn't be sleeping until whatever case Cyrus had for her was over. She walked through the airport in Santa Barbara, and stopped for a cup of coffee at one of the more dedicated coffee stands. Seeing as it was nearing four AM local time – you had to love that time change.

"What'll it be?" He asked, a little bit distracted.

"Coffee. Cream, and sugar," She told him, "The biggest size that you have."

"One of those days then," He said, still not really paying his full attention to her – and she turned to see what had him so gripped.

There was a breaking news story on the TV on the opposite wall. There were flashing lights, and police tape, and Swat Teams with dogs. All of this was obscuring the camera's view of one of the most beautiful Spanish style ranches she had ever seen. She assumed that this was some sort of high profile situation. Otherwise why would there be so many cops, and why would it be on at four in the morning? Except, that was a huge house – there were probably only a few people this far away from Beverly Hills that could afford to live in such a palace.

"Who's house is that?" She asked, turning back around – the man had apparently been able to peel his eyes away to turn around and start making her her coffee.

"The former Governor Grant's," The man said, and Olivia's suspicion was confirmed, this was why she was here – but she just had to make sure.

"Oh, the presidential candidate?" She asked, and he nodded.

"The very same," He replied, "I was on the overnight shift, no one's confirmed anything yet. It all started going down around eleven. The cops showed up – and the press not too much later. One of the news station managed to get a shot of a body bag leaving the house. They're thinking that Grant might have offed himself earlier on, kind of poetic. Like a scorned lover killing themselves on Valentine's Day – the ex-presidential hopeful shoots himself – or whatever happened would be on inauguration day."

"Is that really what happened?" Olivia asked, and the man shrugged as she paid him for her coffee.

"Who knows, the cops aren't talking to anyone yet," He said, and Olivia nodded, "Crazy."

"Yeah, crazy," She said as he handed her her coffee, and she bid him a good day.

Cyrus was practically in love with the Governor, his candidate. Well, she assumed that he might actually be if it weren't for the fact that the governor was straight, and married. She walked out onto the curb with her luggage to where Cyrus said that he would have a car waiting – and called Stephen and Huck from the car – where ever it was taking her. She sighed, Stephen had answered from the office, so she just told him to let Huck know what was going on.

"Are we on this?" Stephen asked, he had apparently turned the news on.

"I'm doing it as a favor, for a friend," Olivia replied, "But yes. Listen, if the Governor really is dead-"

"He's not dead," Stephen said, and Olivia furrowed her eye brow as the car pulled up outside a police station, "His family is though – all three of 'em, and he's been taken in for questioning, routine. They're saying it was a break in."

"What?" Olivia said, as Cyrus came out of the front door, and pulled her door open, "Stephen, I have to go."

"Thank God you're here," Cyrus said – nearly pulling her out of the car, and dragging her towards the front door, "They've had him in holding – in isolation, they wouldn't even let me see him. He hasn't been told anything since they took him from the house. This is bad, Liv. I heard them talking hours ago – "

"Cy, calm down," Olivia tried to tell him as he dragged her through the medal detectors.

"This is Grant's attorney," Cyrus announced to the officers that were standing by the door – he swung the door open for them.

"Cy, slow down," Olivia said, as they walked into a white hall and she used all her strength to stop him, "You need to tell me what's going on. The facts, please. You didn't tell me anything over the phone, remember?"

"I got a call from Fitz at about eleven," He said, letting himself take a breath as he fell back into one of the folding chairs that lined the wall, "Which was apparently after he called the cops. The cops arrived to find him standing in the master bedroom, Mellie was dead, naked, with her throat slit in the bed. He has a gash on his arm – the ambulance wrapped it up and gave him stitches for it, but they said it was pretty deep, that he might be weak due to blood loss. They said he was panicky – that he kept saying that someone had broken into the house – that Mellie was dead. Which was stating the obvious, clearly."

"Clearly," Cyrus said, and Olivia nodded.

"They brought him out of the house, to get his arm patched up," Cyrus said, "And he was screaming and screaming that he needed to get to the kids."

"Karen and Gerry," Olivia said, remembering their smiling faces from the campaign photos - the girl was ten, the boy was six.

"Yeah," Cyrus nodded solemnly, "But they couldn't let him, because he was bleeding so badly – It was probably a blessing in disguise there. They brought him down to the ambulance and asked where their rooms were. He told them, and they went to get them...'

"Both of them?" Olivia swallowed hard, and Cyrus nodded.

"They were both in their beds," Cyrus breathed, "Throats cut, just the same as their mother."

"Oh my God," Olivia put her hand up to cover her mouth, she thought for a second that she might be sick.

"I got there, and they already had him in the back of a police cruiser," Cyrus said, "He was yelling to me telling me to find the kids."

"Oh my God, he doesn't know? Has anyone told him?"

"I don't think so," Cyrus said, and Olivia's heart was sinking with just about every word, "And, some idiot neighbor decided to tell the cops that they were having a fight earlier this evening. So, Liv – they think he did it."

"Did he?" It was out of her mouth before she could take it back.

This was a man, a man that Cyrus adored. Olivia thought of herself as Cy's first born adopted child, but if she had to name one of her siblings it would have to be the Governor. Even though she had never met the man before – from what she had talked about with Cyrus he was like a son to him. He couldn't be a monster that killed his family – right? And even if he was, she should have known better than to pose that question to Cy himself.

"No." He said it without batting an eyelash.

"Cy, are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Cyrus said, taking a deep breath, "I know him, Olivia. He wouldn't – he couldn't he isn't a monster. He loved those kids. I know, and the whole country knew that his marriage was dead – but he wouldn't have killed her. And he loved those kids."

Nobody ever outwardly appears to be a monster, otherwise they wouldn't be a monster. He would be that guy that everyone was waiting to see snap and start killing people. Everyone thinks they know the serial killer that lives down the street. Everyone thought he was a nice guy – that's why no one suspected him when people started to go missing. He even offered up to help look for them – weird because he knew how much of a waste of time it was. Ted Bundy didn't manage to kill upwards of thirty-six women because he looked like a monster that was waiting to kill them. He looked like a nice guy, kind even – caring, until he killed them. No one sees the monster in someone until after they do it. Monsters are awfully good at playing in the shadows, convincing you they're not monsters.

"Where is he?" Olivia asked, "I need to see him."

"They have him in holding," Cyrus said, "He hasn't said anything except for his statement, that someone broke into the house – he waited to get to the baseball bat, and they cut his arm instead of his throat in the dark. He played dead, and whoever it was got out before he went to the bat. He saw Mellie was dead, and called the cops. Then called me."

"Ok," Olivia said, as detective started to walk by them with a big cardboard box full of things.

"Where are you going with that?" Cyrus asked, getting up in the man's face.

"The questioning room," He said, and Olivia got up, "It's evidence from the Grant house."

"I'm his lawyer," Olivia announced to him, as Cy looked into the box – pulling out three Polaroids that Olivia chose to look away from.

"You can't show him these," Cyrus shouted, his face almost purple, "He doesn't even know his children are dead!"

"That sick-o knows who's dead and who's not," The detective said, and Olivia raised her eyebrows at him.

"Watch it, I might think you already think he's guilty," Olivia said, giving the man a serious look.

"I just know that we didn't find anyone, and we searched for miles," He replied, "If it was a break in – there was no damage to any of the doors or windows. There was no break in."

"That remains to be seen it's dark – you boys might have missed something. Like a hide-a-key, or a window that might have been open? It's pretty warm outside," Olivia replied, "I need to get in to see my client. He was injured, and I need to see that he's ok. Also, I'm his damned lawyer, and it's kind of the law."

"He's lawyering up awful fast," The Detective said, "He was only brought in for normal, routine, witness questioning."

"He's a politician, Detective..."

"Yates."

"Detective Yates," She said, "He's a politician, and this is a tragedy - he's in the public eye. I'd hate to have to bring this police station down for spreading rumors to the press slandering him while he grieves for the loss of his family. An innocent man, who was attacked in his own home. Had his wife brutally murdered as she slept next to him. That would be an awful reputation for this station, right?"

The detective had very quickly wiped any trace of the smug look he had had when he was walking down the hall from his face.

"Follow me, miss."

"Cy."

"Ah, is he this guy's lawyer too?" Yates asked, and Olivia sighed.

"No."

He nodded, and Cyrus stayed behind as Olivia followed him down the hall – taking a deep breath. The detective took her right to a holding room, where the Governor was – according to the whiteboard on the door. He knocked twice, and then opened the door.

"Grant. Your lawyer's here," He said somewhat gruffly.

He took off just after that, and Olivia eased herself into the room. 'Grant' was sitting on a bench against the far wall. He was all frazzled, and had apparently only been able to through on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt before they had arrived at the house. She was struck instantly at how handsome he was, and what an innocent face he had. It was almost like a lost little boy, amazing seeing as he was nearing forty-five years old. She had brought up his Bio on the way from the airport. Wikipedia had already been reporting him dead – but it had given her the basics. He was tall, and strong – but he looked a little broken. She took a deep breath, and he waited for the door to close.

"You're not my lawyer. Anyways, why do I need a lawyer?" His voice was kind, he was clearly distraught.

"My name is Olivia Pope, Governor," She said, "Cyrus called me in, because the police have started acting as if you are a suspect."

"What?" He furrowed his brow, "That's ridiculous. Someone was in my bedroom – someone killed my wife. And these idiots are wasting time looking into me? He sliced up my arm pretty good, I don't think I could have done that to myself. This is crazy – I have to see my kids. Their mother just died. They're little. I agreed to come in, but I've been here for hours..."

"Governor," Olivia stopped him as he went to get up, "I'm going to try and get you out of here as soon as possible. But a neighbor reported to the police that you and your wife were arguing earlier this evening."

"My wife and I were married for twenty years, Miss Pope," He said, as he took her cue to sit back down, "It was a normal married couple's fight. We kissed and made up, obviously. Now I need to get to my kids. They're with Cy, right?"

"Governor, I'm so sorry," Olivia told him, "When the officers went to retrieve Karen and Gerry from the house..."

"No," The Governor said, like he was bracing his ears – if he already knew that the kids were dead, he was quite the actor, "No. Miss Pope..."

"I'm so sorry," She told him, "I know I'm a stranger, and the last person that you would want to hear such awful news from but, both of their throats were slashed, just like your wife's."

"No."

She watched the man that was merely a distraught wreck a few seconds before fall apart before her eyes. He crumpled himself up almost into a ball where he sat. It was as if she had taken a chainsaw to his leg – like he had been physically injured. She had never seen a man fall apart so completely. Right before her eyes. She could see the tears streaming down his cheeks just as clearly as she could hear his cries of pain. His eyes were screwed shut, like if he held them like that long enough before he let his eyes open that when he did, it would all just be a dream. She could feel her heart breaking, right in her chest for him.

"Governor," She tried to get his attention, after letting him have a couple minutes – possibly twenty, "Sir."

"I don't believe you," It was high pitched, nearly a scream.

"I wish I lying," She told him, "But I'm going to get you out of here, ok?"

He nodded, mopping up his eyes – trying to put on a brave face – only to fall apart again.

"They think I did this?" His teeth were held tight together, like part of the pain in his soul would go away if he could manage to break his own jaw from pure pressure.

"The police still want to question you," Olivia said, reminding herself to keep to the facts, "They're going to show you photographs."

"Oh, God," He groaned, and Olivia nodded.

"You have to identify them," Olivia replied, "Then, we can arrange for them to be taken away."

"Ok," His lungs were rattling.

"Just do as I say, and we'll get you out of here, tonight."

He nodded – he was also crying again. She looked down at the copy of his statement Yates had given to her, committing it to memory.

"Grant," Yates popped his head into the room, "C'mon, we have a couple questions for you."

Olivia walked with him and the police down the hall to a questioning room. She wasn't sure where Cy had gone – but judging by the cooperation see had already seen from the police, he had been booted to the lobby without her there. The room was almost pure white, with a mirrored wall, which she assumed was where the other detectives and officers were standing. The room was pretty standard, a table in the middle where they had her and the Governor sit down, Yates on the other side.

"Fitzgerald Grant the Third," Yates said, and the Governor nodded, "You called us tonight to report a break in and a murder?"

"I did," the Governor replied, eying the cardboard box as if this were an Indiana Jones and the contents would melt his face off.

"You reported your wife dead - how did you know she was dead?"

Olivia nodded at him.

"Her throat was slit, the sheets were bloody, she wasn't moving, wasn't responding," the Governor replied, he took a deep breath. "Her eyes were open."

"Fair enough," Yates replied, and Olivia just looked at him.

"Judging by your state, I assume your lawyer here has informed you of the deaths of your children?" He asked, and the Governor didn't say anything – Yates looked to Olivia and she nodded in confirmation, "Now, you said in your statement that you woke up to someone standing in your room yelling 'Bitch' and then there was an attack on your wife."

"Yes, sir," The Governor replied, once Olivia nodded – always stay consistent.

"And then you saw movement towards yourself, and you threw your arm up?"

"Yes, sir," he said, showing him the bandaged arm.

"And you played dead?"

the Governor nodded – this made him start off in tears again.

"Detective, my client already gave you his statement," Olivia spoke up, and Yates nodded, "Is there anything else? It's been a very traumatic night for my client. If' you're not going to charge him with something – which I'm not sure how you could - I'd like to get him out of here as soon as possible."

"Understandable," He said, "He'll be open to questioning later? He's not planning on leaving town?"

"No, sir," The Governor swallowed, "I'll be around for any further questions."

"Alright," Yates said, "Wait a second though – I have a few photographs. I'd just like you to identify your family."

This detective really had absolutely no bedside manner at all. He didn't even wait for the Governor to brace himself, or nod in approval before throwing down three of the most heinous pictures that Olivia had ever seen. And she had handled kidnappings. Mrs. Grant went down first – her eyes were still open, which checked out with the Governor's statement, blood was splattered up on her face. She was cold, white, a jagged cut deep into her throat, and blood pooled around it. Next was the boy, his hair was caked in blood – the cut more shallow – like he had felt it. He had known what was happening. His eyes were closed, but his face was anything put peaceful. He had bled out, slowly. The governor started to shake – he was trying to keep it back. Yates didn't care as he threw down the next photo. It was the girl. Her's was deeper than the mother's – her eyes were open, and glazed over the blood had bubbled out of her mouth.

"That's them," The governor barely got the words out as he got up and faced the wall, "Oh God, that's them."

"Put those photos away," Olivia ordered, and Yates threw them back in the box, "Are we free to go?"

"Of course."


	4. The Story

A/N: So, for those of you who are wondering I'll probably start in on the next chapter of When You're Through after I post this... this, just so you know, will calm down on the gruesome... though fluff in this story's going to be hard to get to – but I'll see what I can work in... enjoy :) (This one should be a little bit more enjoyable anyway)...

Trampled Roses

Chapter Three: The Story

The news had yet to report anything at all that fell in line with the officers' suspicions of the governor. This was going to make her job a little bit easier. However, by the time Cyrus had drove them from the police station to the Grant's second residence, a lake house a little further upstate, it was clear that everyone involved was more than a little drained emotionally – and physically – from their stay at the station. She rode up front with Cyrus, with the Governor in the back. She watched him through the mirror all the way there – not really knowing why, but she couldn't peel her eyes away. He was just sitting there – any sort of raw emotion gone, any sort of any emotion gone. He was just looking out the window blankly – like he wasn't even there with them anymore.

"Miss Pope, there's a guest room in the main house, or there's a little boat house we had half of renovated into an in-law around back," The Governor told her as they piled out of the car – the sun was out now, "Your choice."

"I'd like to take the boat house," Cyrus said, hobbling out of the driver's seat as they took their stuff out of the back, "If you don't mind."

"That's fine," Olivia said, and the two men nodded as Olivia reached down to grab her bag – and it was gone.

"Sorry," The Governor said, and she realized he already had it on his back, "Habit. C'mon, Cy already knows where he's going."

He put it back down, and she popped up the handle so she could drag it along. They got up to the front door, and the Governor unlocked the door, letting them in and leading them right into the kitchen. She watched as he leaned on the counter – his key ring just about the only thing that the police would give him from the house. He looked like a wrinkled and torn up version of the guy she remembered from the campaign posters and ads, like he wasn't all there. It was like he didn't know what to do, she had seen him tear up a few more times in the car, but then he had just gone to almost stone. Then again, they were all standing around the kitchen – not knowing what to do.

"Cyrus," Olivia said, knowing that was what she was there for.

She was supposed to hold everyone together, keep them doing what they needed to do to keep them from simply choosing the Governor at a scapegoat. Police Departments had a funny way of choosing the path they found easiest, and if they decided that they wanted the Governor to burn for it – she was going to have a hell of a time convincing a jury that he didn't. She had to stop them from just declaring the Governor a monster – she wasn't exactly convinced either way yet, though. She knew that people could be evil, that they could cover that part of themselves and they could appear charming, sweet, innocent. There was something in her gut that told her he didn't do it – but she couldn't just go on that. Not in a situation like this. The fact that she was still skeptical of him meant that she would see things better.

"Yeah?" Cyrus looked like he was going to pass out – she was sure that they all did.

"The governor's going to need some clothes, a whole wardrobe," Olivia told him, "Can you handle that? They're not going to let anyone back in that house for months. Maybe a year."

At least a trial, if they could build enough evidence on the Governor. If someone else popped up – which would be interesting to see happen if the police were all as focused on the Governor as Yates was. It was hard to see even a giraffe walking through your backyard if you were too focused on the ant colony marching across your back porch. She was starting to get concerned that they were going to have to do the police's job, and find who ever else might have done it for them. Not like it wouldn't be like every other case she's worked on, but it would be nice if they pitched in once in a while.

"Ok, I'll get someone to drop it off," Cyrus said, pulling out his cellphone, but pausing as Olivia put out her arm.

"Everyone," Olivia took a deep breath, the news still wasn't reporting anything too detrimental – they already had a statement out, "Take three hours. Get settled in, maybe get in a nap if you can – then meet up here in the kitchen."

Cyrus went right out the backdoor with his bag, that they had stopped to pack for him. Olivia turned and grabbed the handle on her own bag, and was suddenly aware that the Governor was watching her. She pulled up on the handle, and headed towards the staircase she had seen on the way in. He followed her out of the kitchen and down the hall, and she started to feel a little bit uncomfortable. What was he doing? She was being stupid. It was his house, she was going upstairs, which was probably where his room was too, right? How did he had her so on edge? She started up the stairs, and it became very apparent to her that her bag's wheels were no longer going to be working in her favor..

"Here, let me just -"

She turned around to see the Governor picked her bag up by the side handle.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," He said, and she was thinking about letting him – she had to start packing a little lighter, "C'mon. Just let me get it up the stairs. You can lug it all the way to the room – if you want."

"Thanks," She said, letting go of it and he pushed what she had been dragging it by back down into the top – picking it up with ease.

"And I thought I'd show you where the room is."

Oh, that made sense.

"Right."

"There's just a lot of doors up here," He said kindly, pausing at the top of the stairs, looking at her like he was waiting for her to tell him to drop it.

She didn't have the energy to even drag it along after herself.

"Show away," She said, and he gave her a little nod.

He led her off down a somewhat narrow hallway. It was lined with photographs, but none of them family, or at all seemingly sentimental. They were nature, sail boats, lighthouses. None of the children, none of the family. She thought she had spotted one of the whole family, downstairs over a fireplace – but that was it. He stopped at the end of the hall and opened up one of the doors for her. She peaked inside and saw a beautiful, bright room – that looked a little like it had been decorated by a colonial maid. It was just that it was a bit frivolous, and everything that she could see with her very thin peak was edged in white lace. He set the bag down, and popped back up the handle for her.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He looked like he had aged, terribly – even just overnight from the time that she had walked into the holding room they had had him in. His hair, which had been a little disheveled in the holding room was now bordering on high school science teacher, complete with random curls poking out and some of it matted down with – she wasn't sure what. The lines on his face that had been almost invisible during the election were deep, and like you could try to aki down them. His eyes were bloodshot, from a mixture of crying and being up for so long. She felt bad for him, particularly as his glance drifted a little to the room across the hall. The door was open, and the room inside was a dusty pink – a stuffed animal just inside of the door. It looked well-loved. It was Karen's room.

She stepped out to the side and shut the door.

"You don't have to go in there," She told him, "You don't have to look in there, not yet. You don't have to ever if you don't want to."

"Gerry's room's the next one down," He told her – that door was open too, she went and shut it, "Thanks."

"Here," She said, rifling through her purse and pulling out a bottle, she took out one of the pills and put it into his hand.

"It looks like a horse tranquilizer," He commented at he size as he looked down at it.

"That's pretty much what it is, only it's for humans," She told him, "Take half, you'll pass out for a couple hours."

"Thanks," He said, and she nodded.

"Don't worry about it," She said, "And Governor, I'm very good at what I do. That's why Cyrus called me."

He nodded again, a little awkwardly – offering her a weak smile and headed off down the hall. She went into the room, and put the contents of her suitcase away, no matter how much she wished she had packed light enough so that she could carry it – she was glad that she had pretty much thrown her whole wardrobe into her biggest suitcase. She was going to have to be out there for at least a few months, even if they caught someone else, and decided that the Governor shouldn't be the number one suspect, that meant he was going on defense. She laid down on the bed, and texted Stephen, to call her if the news started reporting anything different in the next couple hours. Then she called Huck.

"Olivia?"

"I need you to come out here," She told him, before he even said anything else, "I'll get your ticket, have Stephen get you to the airport, it'll be waiting for you – I'll have a car pick you up at the airport."

"I can't fly commercial flights."

"I know," She told him, "I'll take care of it, ok? I'll text Stephen the details in a minute."

"Alright."

She hung up the phone and took a deep breath. She was about to call in a favor, it would be easy, and relatively painless considering what she had helped the woman with, but it was a little different, she was sick. It wasn't like she was about to ask her to fly the plane, just to make the call so that Huck could fly out. She was going to need him, Stephen was an easier get. Nevertheless, as the phone rang she started getting more and more nervous. She shouldn't be, this was a friend of her's.

"Olivia?" The tired voice of her friend, Verna Thornton answered.

"Verna," Olivia said, knowing that Verna was a very down to business type of person, "I need a favor. You still have the plane, right?"

"Yes," She said, "It's at Reagan – does this have something to do with what's going on."

"Cyrus called me," Olivia said, "Yes. I need to fly one of my team members out to help, but he can't fly commercial."

"No problem," Verna said, "I'll tell them one for Santa Barbara?"

"Thank you, Verna," Olivia said, "How are the treatments going?"

"They're horse shit," She said, coughing in the middle, and Olivia smiled – there was the Verna she knew, "Hey, how's Fitz holding up?"

"I didn't know you were a friend."

"I knew his father, he was a good kid," Verna said, and Olivia was surprised.

"He's a little zombie-like. Honestly, I think he's half in shock, half grieving."

"They think he did it, is that why Cyrus brought you on?"

"In for all the gossip, huh Verna?"

"The cancer wing's dead boring."

"Verna."

"It's true."

"I have to go," Olivia said and Verna sighed.

"Alright, keep me updated."

"Watch the news."

She hung up, and then sent out a quick text to Stephen with the details. Then she laid on her side, knowing that she should get some sleep before the case really picked up. She would have liked to be able to do the sit down with the Governor, get the full story out of him right away. However, part of the job was making sure that her clients weren't put through more than they could take. The Governor was already pushing the envelope, he needed a little bit of rest before she made him go into details about the night before. The way he had looked off into his daughter's room. It was like it was unrecognizable, like he was looking back into a past life.

She closed her eyes to try and get some shut-eye, and the first thing that flashed into her head was the photographs. Her eyes shot open, and she thought about the sleeping pills in her purse, the one she had given to the Governor. He was likable, that was going to be their friend if this ended up going to court. The way he had helped her up the stairs, it was like he didn't know what to do with himself. Like he was so shell shocked, and so completely out of it that he didn't know what to do with himself. That wasn't the way a man who killed his family in cold blood reacted. That one was cold, calculating, and would be in much better spirits, there wouldn't be any shock. Which was a hard emotion to fake. And no one was that good of an actor. She tried to close her eyes again – to the same effect, and gave up.

She headed back out of the room. She didn't feel comfortable taking the sleeping pill. What if whoever did this really had evaded the police? Even worse, what if it really was the Governor – she didn't want to be incapacitated. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to get to sleep that night – but she couldn't worry about that now. She took a deep breath as she passed the empty children's rooms. She said a little prayer, and promised them that she would find who did this. That whoever it was was brought to justice. She wasn't entirely sure what justice was for this, and she didn't really believe in the death penalty. But, if anyone deserved to die, it was whoever did this.

She decided to take a look around, the living room was polished, perfect. She would have expected no less of the woman that she remembered from the campaign speeches. The one portrait of the whole family was over the fireplace, the dining room was set up like it was expecting a family to just come in and sit down to dinner. They weren't going to come. She went on back into the kitchen, to get a glass of water. She opened the fridge, and the whole thing was stocked. She turned around, and the Governor was standing behind her – apparently fresh from a shower.

"I was just going to grab some water to get this down," He said, showing her half the pill, and she nodded.

"The fridge..."

"Yeah, it's full – help yourself," He told her, then it seemed to take him a minute to realize that she thought this was odd, "Oh, the kids and I spent a lot of time here. Every weekend. Gerry refused to swim in the ocean. He was terrified just standing on the beach. We made the mistake of letting him watch something on sharks when he was really little. There's no sharks in the lake. He wouldn't even play in the backyard at the house near the beach. So even in the winter we were here."

"Oh, that's thoughtful," She said, and he nodded, "Your wife didn't come with you?"

"She – sometimes, most of the time," He said it all quickly, and Olivia quirked an eyebrow, "She was busy."

"Busier than you?" Olivia asked, and he just shrugged – weird.

He took down the pill, and then headed into the other room lying down on the couch. He passed out quickly – not to her surprise. If he had taken the whole thing he might have been out a full eight hours without knowing what hit him. Judging by his size, and his already exhausted nature, she figured he'd be asleep for at least two hours before he even realized that he had taken the pill. She went outside, there was a porch, complete with patio furniture that was already set out. Made sense if he and the kids were there all the time. The only question was, why didn't she come with them? She had seemed like a doting mother, a family person. So why would she not come out here with her family when they came? Two hours passed quickly, and she spotted Cyrus coming up from the boat house.

"Comfortable?" She asked him, and Cyrus shrugged.

"It's where I stay when I come up," He said, and Olivia nodded.

"Did Mrs. Grant come with them when they came?"

"Not very often," Cyrus admitted, "She wasn't really one for family outings. That doesn't really sell to the American public though. Fitz brought the kids here just about every weekend."

"Yeah."

"Where's Fitz?"

"I gave him a pretty heavy sleeping pill," She told him as they walked back into the kitchen – she could see in the living room that he was still passed out, "He should be coming to soon."

Even as she said it, she could see him starting to stir.

"A sleeping pill, or a tranquilizer? Or something from Huck?"

"Somewhere in the middle," She said, and Cyrus laughed, "Ok, closer to a tranquilizer."

"Is that how you sleep?" Cyrus asked, somewhat seriously, and Olivia was saved from answering as the Governor sat up.

"What was that?" He asked, putting his hand up on the back of his neck bracingly.

"How are you feeling?" Olivia asked, walking over and sitting down.

He didn't really answer.

"Ok, Governor Grant, it looks like the police have you down as a suspect in the case," Olivia told him, and he nodded – he was handling this better with a little sleep, "I'm here to help you. I need to know the whole story of what happened last night."

"I gave it to the -"

"No, Governor," She said, "I need you to start with what you had for dinner. What you and your wife were fighting about – if you went to the bathroom before you went to bed. Everything, and no lies. I need to know everything before the press gets a hold of it."

"Ok," He swallowed.

"Start when you can."

It took him a minute to compose himself.

"We went out for dinner," The Governor said, taking a deep breath, "The kids loved that little restaurant – Daisy's. We took them there, then went to see a movie – ah – the new Pixar one. We got home, and I got the kids ready for bed, I don't know what Mel was doing. She got a phone call as we were pulling into the driveway. I read them a story in Karen's room. It was hot, so Gerry opened the window. After the story, I tucked Karen in, and brought Gerry into his room. He had fallen asleep on the floor – I put him in his bed. He loved sailboats – my fault, I was trying to get him not to be so scared. Sharks can't get you on a boat. He was asking me about getting one. Then he fell asleep."

"Good," Olivia said, thinking of the window – and that the kids had had a seemingly nice last night.

"Then, I went to find Mellie. She was down in the kitchen – she seemed upset," He said, "I don't claim to have had a perfect marriage, we fought a bit. It's what happens after twenty years. I didn't want to wake the kids up, so I made her step outside. Guess that's how the neighbor heard -"

"What were you fighting about?"

"Something stupid," He said, "She thought I was checking out the waitress at dinner, and I wasn't paying enough attention to her – normal shit."

"Alright," Olivia said.

"I talked her down, she wasn't exactly angry at me," He said, "We went up to go to bed, and she wanted make up sex. So, we did that, and then we fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later to someone standing in the middle of my bedroom shouting 'bitch' and then he dove at Mellie's side of the bed – I was shocked – I rolled over to do something, and I got a knife to the arm, he dug it in – in the dark I think he thought it was my throat."

"He?"

"Yeah," the Governor said, "He was a pretty bulky black mass, bald. I didn't get a good look at his face. White."

"Ok," Olivia said, making a mental note.

"I played dead, I couldn't hear anything from Mellie," He said, I knew the baseball bat was near my dresser – I was waiting for him to leave the room so I could get it. The whole bed was soaked in blood – I couldn't tell if it was my arm or Mellie. Obviously it was probably mostly Mellie's. He left the room and I got up, put the light on, and she was dead."

"Ok, we've got the rest," Olivia said, and the Governor nodded, "Cyrus, I need you to put out a statement saying that someone was in the house, give them a description – Is there anything else you can remember?"

Putting out that he was beside himself with grief and was recovering from his own injuries went without saying.

"He had a bracelet, gold," the Governor said, "It flashed in the little bit of light. And, a tattoo."

"A tattoo?"

"Right here on his wrist," the Governor pointed to right over the veins on the inside of his wrist.

"Do you remember what it was?"

"A name, it was writing."

"Ok."

Olivia took a breath as Cyrus went into the next room, his phone pressed into his ear. It was strange, as Olivia was looking at him. She believed him, she knew with her entire being that he was telling her the truth. He didn't do it, there was another person in the house that night. But there was something wrong – something that made her not entirely buy into the story that he had told her. She just couldn't figure out what it was, which was why it was so terrifying to her that she was so convinced of his innocence.

"We have security cameras," He offered up, "During the election I had them put in – some left wing nuts threatened the family if I didn't withdraw. Normal stuff, nothing ever came of it. Maybe the cameras caught something though."

"I have someone coming in," She told him, "I'll have him look into it."


	5. Pain & Guilt

A/N: And then that moment of time when you just can't stop writing on the same story... oh well... enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Four: Pain & Guilt

Huck arrived a little late that evening, but she felt a lot more secure knowing that he was there. She had him working on figuring out if there was something to do with the security tapes, she didn't want to know what he was going to have to do to get them. But with him in the house, and Stephen keeping an eye on the news cycle – which had run out of things to report and stopped being breaking news – for now resting on a break in, that she could sleep. She had given Fitz another pill over dinner, to be taken whole so that he could sleep the night and not be haunted by the kids. She wondered how long she would be feeding him pills, but she wasn't willing to give him more than one at a time. She wasn't sure, but she thought given the circumstances he might have a couple suicidal thoughts. At least she knew that she would be experiencing a few – either way, she didn't trust him not to do something stupid. She was worried about him. Why? She wasn't even convinced that she could believe him all the way.

Her sleep was interrupted once again by an early morning phone call. However, it was a little more welcome at six AM than at four. Though as she got out of bed, and looked down at the caller ID on her phone. She took a deep breath when she realized it wasn't Stephen, but Clara. She threw her hair up into something that vaguely resembled being tied back, and threw on a bathrobe. She stepped into her slippers and answered the phone as she headed out into the hall. It was early yet – no one would be up so she headed towards the back porch.

"Clara?" She said as she hit the kitchen, "What's wrong?"

"It's mom," Her eighteen year old sister replied, and she took a deep breath, "I had to bring her into the hospital last night – she got admitted again. She stopped taking her meds."

She should have known, she exhaled as she sat down at the little patio table, looking out over the lake.

"Sweetie, where are you?" Olivia said, mom was safe, or as safe as she could be.

"At the hospital, they just admitted her."

"Ok," Olivia said.

"Liv, it was awful. I found her prescription bottle – it was still full. She hadn't been taking them for a couple weeks maybe," Clara said, "So I had to find her, she just lying there..."

"But you got her into the hospital before something happened?" Olivia checked, and she heard Clara grunt a little in affirmation, "Ok, how're you holding up?"

"I'm ok," Clara said, Olivia could hear her taking a deep breath.

"Sweetie, maybe we should revisit putting her -"

"No, I can take care of her."

"Clara, you can't-"

"It was a slip up. She didn't even get to hurt -"

She had to admit that it had been a while.

"That's not the point. You're a senior in high school, you shouldn't have to..."

"No. I need my mom, Liv. You may not need her anymore – but I do. And she needs me."

"Clara," Olivia said, recoiling a little bit like she had been struck by a snake – a snake that she loved more than anything in the world.

She hated thinking about Clara all alone with their mother in New York. But there was only so much that she could do. They didn't have any family – it was just them and their mother. Their mother wouldn't leave their house, for the most part – never mind even the thought of asking her to move. Besides, Clara was in her senior year of high school. She couldn't further alienate her any more than Clara already felt. All the time she was growing up she told herself that Clara was never going to deal with her mother the way that she did – but there they were. Olivia had to work – she had to send them home money.

"Sorry, Liv," She said – someone in the family had to work, "It's just I don't want to give up on her. She needs me."

"And what're you going to do next year?" Olivia asked her.

"I applied to colleges that I can go to and live at home," Clara said, Olivia was aware, she had made her send her college essay to her – twice for editing.

"Clara."

"She's mom, Liv. We can't let them just take her."

"I know she's mom, but she's admitted right now – they've got her. Did they tell you how long this time?" Olivia said, taking a deep breath.

"Seventy-two hours this time," Clara said, and Olivia nodded.

"You're late for school," Olivia told her.

'I'll go now."

"I'll call the office," Olivia told her, she had been Clara's official guardian – not that it mattered now – since she had turned eighteen, it was why she had been tied to New York so long, "They still require that even though you're eighteen, right?"

"Yeah, thanks, Liv."

"This conversation's not over," Olivia told her, "Call me after you get your homework done tonight ok?"

"Alright. I love you, Liv."

"I love you, baby girl."

She hung up and speed dialed Clara's school.

"Hello?" It was Mrs. Wayne – the same secretary that had been there ten years ago when she was a senior.

"Hi, this is Olivia Pope."

"Clara's going to be late, again?"

"She'll be there within twenty minutes, sorry – we had a bit of a family issue this morning."

"I'll write her up a pass," Mrs. Wayne said, "Your mother, again?"

"An Uncle," Olivia fibbed – no need to satisfy the woman's curiosity.

"Alright, thanks for the call."

Olivia hung up the phone. She would have done anything to make it so that Clara didn't have to deal with this – but someone had to make the money, right? More than half of whatever she made went straight back to them. Clara was smart, gifted – but she was going to sell herself short. She was going to go to some random college because it was close, she was going for occupational therapy, which would be fine – if she didn't know exactly why she was doing it. But Clara was sweet, Olivia had protected her as much as she could for as long as she could. She took a deep breath. She could have shattered the table she was sitting at. She had learned a long time ago how not to cry, but this was one of those times that she had to physically force herself not to. She would call the hospital later -

"That didn't sound fun," She heard the Governor behind her, instantly getting that she should have scanned the deck before she sat down to talk to Clara.

She turned around in her seat just in time to see him walking over with a cup of coffee in hand.

"No."

"Sorry," He said, sitting down at the table with her, "Your little magic pill wore off like an hour ago. Every time I close my eyes – I don't want to think about it."

"Yeah," Olivia took a deep breath, "Governor I'm sorry..."

"Stop," He said, sounding frustrated, "I don't want to think about it. That's why I was out here. So, if you don't mind me asking, what was that about?"

"Governor-"

"Oh, c'mon," He replied, "You're upset, and I'd love for maybe ten minutes not to be about me or my family. Think of it like hitting pause. We'll get back to me today, once your very scary looking hacker gets that tape."

He had a point. She looked over at him, his face was so strong, masculine. His jaw was so strong, and his features hard. If she hadn't seen him falling apart over the past day or was it two now? She didn't know, it felt like a lifetime anyways. But she could see it, a sadness in his eyes that she knew he would never lose. He was different, he wasn't going to let this kill him – he was stronger than that. She wished her mother had that intiative. That full on will, and inner strength. She was sure if it had been her and her sister too, her mother would be gone. And that wasn't just because she had walked in and stopped her first attempt at her own life. It was just kind of a thing that she knew. The Governor was depressed, on the inside. But he wasn't the type of person that could handle being that way.

"It was my little sister, she's eighteen," Olivia said, and there was just something in the back of her head that told her to keep going, "Our mother got admitted to the hospital, again. She has really severe depression. She hasn't been the same since my dad passed away."

"When was that?"

"When I was ten," Olivia told him, she wasn't sure why, "Clara was born the same day, because mom almost lost her."

"I'm sorry. What happened to him?" He asked, and Olivia swallowed.

"He worked for the government," Olivia replied, "It was officially ruled a suicide. But, the government also sent us his salary until I was out of school. They paid for college, and law school. Then they stopped. So what does that tell you?"

"CIA," The Governor nodded – and Olivia nodded, "Probably pretty high up if they were taking care of you guys."

"That's what I figure," Olivia said, taking a breath, "Cy knew him, he's hinted to me as much as he can, I think."

"So what's up with your mom?"

"She's been trying to kill herself for the past eighteen years," Olivia said, blatantly – and he was a little taken aback, "Yeah. She changed when we got the news, like it just flipped a switch. She has her good days and bad days, but it always comes back."

"That's-," He said, and he paused, "I keep going over it in my head. It's driving me crazy."

"What?"

"I played dead," He said, "I was a coward. What if he hadn't gotten to the kids yet? What if I could have stopped him? What if I had gotten up, what if I had fought him. They would all be alive, right now."

"Don't do that," Olivia replied, she knew that going in reverse, what if she hadn't caught her mother? The first time? The fourth time?

"I know it won't change anything," He said, she could see him getting upset again, and he was fighting it – hard, "I just want to know."

"No you don't," She promised him, "Either way it's I should have done this, or I should have done that. If you get stuck in the 'what if's you're going to drive yourself insane."

He was looking at her, and not like a man who just lost his wife so quickly should be looking at anyone. It scared her, and at the same time it didn't. He wasn't pitying her, and it wasn't like he was worried about her. He was admiring her, there was a few things mixed into those perfect blue eyes – damn it did she just think that? - but respect was the major one. There was a little bit of sadness, and she was old enough and knew enough of the world to see a little bit of lust, but had she seen that look in his eye before. Relax. He just lost his wife, which was the scary part – how could he be looking at her like that – shivers ran all through her spine. What the hell was going on? Was she falling for a trap? Because she liked it, and she shouldn't. Or was it just him wanting to feel normal?

Or, maybe she was just imagining the whole thing because it's what she wanted to see. It was more likely than all the above proposed. She liked him, and that needed to stop - right then and there. He was a a widower, and he had just lost his entire family. She knew she was drawn to sad people, but this was an all time new low.

"Governor-"

"C'mon, just call me Fitz? That Governor crap's really starting to get to me," He said, offering her a weak smile, "Besides, we're in time out."

"And we aren't anymore," Olivia said, as Huck came out of the house.

"I've got it," Huck announced, walking out with his laptop.

"You've got it?" Olivia asked, and Huck looked at her quickly.

"You don't want to know how."

"Ok," She replied, as he set it down on the table, and hit play.

"There's only a little bit."

"What?" Olivia asked.

"It seems like someone shut it off," Huck replied.

"What?" Fitz seemed shocked – she hadn't seen him make a face like that before, "We always leave them on."

"There's just this little bit, and then it stops."

Olivia looked down at the screen, which was a full shot of the back porch. There was a time stamp in the back corner, around seven Fitz and his wife walked out onto the porch. She went to the opposite side right away. He said a couple things, from what she could tell by no volume. Then, he must have said something to anger her, because she turned around on her heal and started for him, apparently yelling at him as she backed him into the corner. Even knowing that he was sitting, arguably perfectly fine, across from her at the table she was scared for him in the video. Then, apparently without him saying a word, she calmed down. She smoothed her skirt, and she said something to him in a normal voice. It was something that scared him, because after that he followed her in. That was not a normal couple's argument. It wasn't even an argument at all, he said maybe three sentences, and she was down his throat. She watched the time stamp for another (sped up) twenty minutes, and then it went black.

"Someone shut off the camera," Olivia said, and Huck nodded.

"Someone shut off the camera?" Cyrus was walking up, "Looks like I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep."

"Did you have cameras inside the house?"

"No," Fitz replied, looking up – barely.

He was caught red handed – the fight had not gone down at all like he had said. She gave him a look – but deemed it not important to bring up right in the moment, she would ask him about it later.

"Did Mellie have any enemies?" Olivia asked, and Fitz shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Did you have anyone who would want to do this?"

"Not off the top of my head," He replied, sighing, as Olivia's phone started to ring on the table.

"What?"

"Whatever channel seven is there."

"Stephen?"

"They're starting to talk about him like he's a suspect," He said, and Olivia got up from the table.

The manner in which she had gotten up made the rest of them get up in almost one fluid motion. They followed her into the house and she turned on the TV, where it didn't matter which station she had turned on. The scroll at the bottom said that the police were looking into a couple of suspects, Governor Grant included.

"Ok," Olivia said taking a deep breath, "They're scrambling."

"What I don't get is why they're so determined to think I had something to do with it."

"You're the easy answer," Huck told him, "People don't want to believe that some random stranger is going to break into a house and kill a family. People like to understand the people that do these sort of things – as weird as that sounds. They like to think 'oh that won't happen to me, because I haven't done x'."

"Thank you, Huck," Olivia said, and she turned to Fitz, "They won't be able to bring anyone in until they find the murder weapon."

"That's supposed make me feel better?" Fitz asked, and Huck shrugged.

"Governor," She said, he was starting to panic.

"There's a man out there – who killed my family. And they're looking into me?"

"Governor," She said, "We're going to find out what happened that night. Do you remember anything between when you initially fell asleep and when you woke up during the attack?"

"No," He replied, "Just waking up to a man in my bedroom with a fucking knife."

"Fitz, calm down," Cyrus just about barked at him.

"Not helping," Olivia said, taking a step back – and she took a deep breath, "Ok. Game plan. Huck – I need you to see if you can get the rest of that tape. The ones on the other entrances, see if you can get open windows in the shot. Cyrus, I need you to put out a statement that denies the allegations against him, but we need more evidence. The cops don't have anything they didn't have last night – they didn't leak this, and if they did they can't back it up. Reinstate the statement from before. Explain that he hasn't been brought in for questioning again, just the routine questioning. Fit – Governor."

"Yeah," He looked up at her.

"I need more details. You know something, I know you do," She told him, "You need to remember. I'm sorry to do this to you – but you need to think about exactly what happened that night. Anything out of the ordinary, and anything that might give us something to go on. Did you get a look at his face? The mind sees a lot more than what we originally process. I need you to try and remember – little details in the day. Did Mellie wear her hair a different way – did one of the kids see someone they thought was creepy at the movies. Who was Mellie on the phone with?"

The last question was the real one.

"I don't know," Fitz said, and Olivia took a deep breath.

"She didn't tell you?"

'I didn't ask."

Wrong, he did. No man sees their wife upset after a phone call and doesn't ask who it was. No one. Especially not one like Fitz. Well, no one like the Fitz that she seemed to be getting to know. Right? Unless he thought he knew who it was on the phone. She already knew that there was way more to this story that he wasn't telling her. And if he hadn't told her already, he wasn't going to tell her now. She took a deep breath. She was going to have to figure out what he was holding back on her own. Especially if he wasn't just going to come clean and tell her. There was something definitely screwy going on - she just couldn't figure out what it was. There were holes in the story, but there always were. Nothing was ever perfect, but she could sense it. She didn't understand why he wasn't telling her.

"Can we pull the records? The cops will need a warrant, and they won't have gotten that yet."

"Yeah," Fitz said, taking out his phone, "Let me make a phone call to the company and I'll have them fax them to me."


	6. Wasted

A/N: And the next little bit... it's a little shorter, but it has a good stopping point. enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Five: Wasted.

"What do we do now?" Cyrus asked once the fax with the phone records came in – all of their eyes went straight to the calls that had come in 'restricted' three in just that day.

"Huck," Olivia said, "Can you trace Mellie's phone number? And try and see if we can get something out of that?"

"I can try," Huck said, starting to type away on his laptop.

"There were three calls?" Fitz asked, and Olivia nodded.

"We're going to need more of the record," Olivia told him, and he nodded – then looked at his watch.

"They're closed by now, I'll have them send it over in the morning."

"Huck I need something to that phone. What provider it was, where it was coming from, who paid the bill, or if it was a burner."

"It would help if I had her..."

"We can't get that, Huck."

"Ok," He said, "I'll hack into... Verizon?"

Huck paused.

"Yeah," Fitz said, nodding, and Huck went back to his laptop.

"It's going to take a while."

None of them believed him, and attempted to stay up, but one by one they went off to their rooms. Including Olivia. She went up shortly after Fitz had disappeared, though she had been the last one up with Huck. He had just about told her to go to bed, she felt bad – but it was late. And she had a feeling the way things were picking up she was going to need the full use of her brain in the morning. Stephen was still watching on the East Coast, where the news would show first in the morning. She had to remind herself to take deep breaths.

This case was absolutely wiping her out. She wasn't really sure what it was about it, but she knew that it wasn't good. It was probably the fact that it involved kids – that's why she had gone in to crisis management – kids didn't usually need her. Kids weren't usually involved, at all – unless it was a kidnapping. They had been sending out little bits of information, sending out rumors that the police were not investigating to their full potential, obviously they would never be able to admit to those – but it was helping. Public opinion mattered, and anyone who said it didn't in court cases was completely out of their mind.

She was laid on the bed, the news rambling on in the background. They had seemingly gotten bored from reporting about the Grants all day – which was exactly what she was hoping would happen. She wasn't even sure she would need a sleeping pill tonight, that would be nice. She had just managed to shut her eyes. They had gone back to reporting about the Grants – but at this point it was all white noise to her. She took a deep breath – almost forcing herself to listen.

"_...Again, authorities have brought in Paul Mosley, a Literacy Advisor to the late Mellie Grant for questioning..."_

Olivia shot up into a sitting position as her brain clicked – perhaps just after the police's had. Within seconds she was up and thanking God that she hadn't changed yet. She flipped the TV off, and took off down the hallway. She turned to the left, where she had seen Fitz disappear the other night. She looked into the bedroom: the bed was made, and he was no where in sight. Then, she took off down the stairs and passed Huck asleep on the couch. His laptop was still running whatever it was working on in front of his face as he slept.

"Huck," She hissed – trying to wake him, "Huck."

He jumped about three feet in the air, and then was sitting up, straight as a board.

"Yes, Liv?"

"I need you to look for a Paul Mosley in Mellie's phone records," She said, "You can keep it until morning, but I need to know how often he called, and how long their conversations lasted, ok?"

And if he called under restricted – which would be the case if Huck couldn't find him.

"Alright."

She looked into the kitchen, and popped her head out the door for a second. Where the hell was he? She strained her ears to try and hear something, and that was all she needed. There were footsteps from someone moving around in the basement.

She treaded lightly on the steps, realizing that the light was on as she got to the door. She could hear someone down there, and Fitz very slowly came into view. He was carrying a hammer, and there was a half-built child sized boat – like a small dingy, in the middle of the half finished basement. There was a shelf behind him, filled with half filled bottles of alcohol. Forget the idea of having a minibar in your basement, this was a full out bar. If the circumstances were a little bit different, she might think that the proper thing to do was to order a drink. Upon further inspection he had an almost empty bottle of something in hand.

"This is Gerry's boat," He said, looking up at her where she had frozen, halfway down the stairs, and he finished the bottle of whatever he was drinking – tossing it to the side, "I was too busy to get it finished for last summer – I was trying to get it so it would be ready for this summer."

He dropped the hammer – she wasn't sure if it was on purpose. He picked up the saw.

"Mellie was having an affair," She said, and he scoffed, looking a little wobbly on his own legs as she got to the bottom of the stairs, "You knew."

He let the saw hang for a second, and took a deep breath.

"Yeah," Fitz said, raising the saw, resting the back of the blade on his shoulder.

Olivia stopped for a second – she should be afraid, right? She wasn't. He was sad, he was drunk, he was holding a saw – but he wasn't violent. There wasn't a violent bone in his body. She took a deep breath as he started talking again.

"She had a fucking boyfriend," He was waving the saw as he spoke, "Makes me look pretty guilty huh? It's always the jealous cuckolded husband. The cops already thought it was me, now I'm going to prison, aren't I?"

"Depends on what he says to them," Olivia replied, as she stopped right in front of him, taking the blade and he let her take it away from him, "You probably shouldn't be playing with this right now."

"Probably right," He mumbled, nodding a little too excessively, and she put it to the side.

"Why didn't you tell me? How long have you known?"

"A couple years ago," He told her, "I don't know how long it had been going on – I didn't ask. I didn't care. My wife was cheating on me, and I didn't care. What does that tell you about the kind of guy I am?"

"Fitz. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You just called me Fitz."

"I did," She replied, taking a breath, as he leaned back on the work bench, and hoisted himself up to sit, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Mellie's dead, the only thing she ever cared about – over the children, over Paul – I put them in that order, because I hope that's how it was - and definitely over me was her reputation," He said, "I figured there was no reason to drag that into it. She didn't even know I knew until that night."

"What?" Olivia asked.

"That's why she never came here with me and the kids," He said, taking a deep breath, ending it in a little burp,"She thought she was being clever – she thought I believed her when she said she had a meeting or something. Towards the end she got sloppy, she actually started saying that she had Literacy advising meetings. Really she was just taking the weekend to bang her boyfriend. You wanna know what really happened that night?"

"Sure."

"Earlier in the day I just got sick of it. You know we hadn't even slept in the same bed since Gerry was born? I called my lawyer, told him she was having an affair – made an appointment for us to go in and get the ball rolling on a divorce," He said, then took a deep breath, "We took the kids to dinner, to a movie – and on the way home she got a call. I assumed that it was Paul, I went and put the kids to bed. When I got down to the kitchen she seemed off – I made a crack about her trying not to have a fight with her boyfriend while I was putting the kids to bed."

"Then what happened?"

"She flipped out that I would accuse her of something like that," Fitz said, shrugging, "Like I really cared – we were a political couple. Matched together by our families for that bid on the Presidency. Anyways – I made her take it outside, there was no way I was going to let her wake the kids up. I told her that I wanted a divorce, that I called the lawyer. That I was done with her shit. Well, you saw the tape. She screamed about just about everything under the sun. Told me I wouldn't be anywhere without her – that there was going to be no divorce, that we were married. Win or lose. Then she did that thing that meant she was done with her temper tantrum, and she told me that I was having sex with her."

"Fitz..."

"I know, pretty embarrassing, right?" He said, "We hadn't done anything like that since she demanded to have a second kid. Anyways she threatened me, told me she'd tell the world I was gay, or that I beat her, or I beat the kids. She said that she'd get me the divorce, but she'd take the kids. No one'd let a father who beat his kids even have visitation rights, right? So that was unpleasant. The rest of the story's without any errors."

"Fitz..." She didn't even know what to say.

"Wow," He took a deep breath, "I must be really fucking wasted if I just told you that. I can't believe I told you that. If you could just erase any visuals of that particular castration, I'd appreciate it. "

"Fitz, I need you to think – it's important," Olivia told him, as she went and sat next to him, "Was it Paul in the house that night?"

"What? No," He shook his head, "He's too skinny – and he has hair. It wasn't him."

"Ok," Olivia replied, and she took a breath, "Did you have anyone..."

"On the side?" He asked, and he shook his head, "Never saw the point. I was married, even if she was a bitch, even if I hated her. Even if she was screwing around – this is all making me sound guilty, huh?"

"No," Olivia told him, there was way more to this than Fitz could even realize – but she realized it. And she was going to get to the bottom of it for him, "Fitz, apathy is not a criminal offense. I would leave out the ra-"

"Don't."

"Sorry," She replied, "But if we can prove you knew years ago, it's not relevant to the case. Did Paul know you knew? Did anyone?"

"Cy," Fitz said, "And I don't know..."

"What?" Olivia asked him.

"I just wanna know who the hell I pissed off," He said, and she gave him a weird look, "This is my life? How the hell did _this_ become my life? I always tried to do the right thing. I was a loyal husband – though clearly I didn't have to be. I was a good father, and I tried to help people. How the hell did I end up like this? The first suspect in the deaths of my kids? My wife? I couldn't have laid a hand on her – even if I'd wanted to. My little girl is dead, my son never even got to grow up. He was a baby – he never got to do anything. Neither of them. And to top it all off this is when whoever the hell's up there pulling the strings decides to... unbelievable."

"Decides to what?" Olivia asked him.

He let out a low laugh, and turned to look at her. He gave a weak, half, and drunken smile and then just started laughing.

"Fitz," She said, and he took a deep breath.

"Maybe it'd be better if you went back to calling me 'governor'," He said.

"Fitz..."

"You," He finally said, and then rolled his eyes, "Oh, what the hell, right? They'll be here in a couple hours to arrest me."

"They can't arrest you – they don't have enough information yet. Otherwise they would have arrested you before they leaked what they did to the press."

"Liv, I don't care anymore," He said, coughing a little bit, "I know what I did now, I should have never married her. That was on me. I knew it was mistake – and now I'm being punished. He took my kids away, and her – and I'm going to go down for it. Meanwhile, the woman that I should have waited around for – should have found first tries like hell to get me out of it. Shakespeare is what it is. All we're missing are the Goddamned tights."

Olivia was still trying to process what he had just said, but she didn't have time. She was looking at him, and then she wasn't. He was to close for her to see properly, and his eyes were closed, his lips on hers. It took her a half of a second to process, his lips were so soft, so warm, so – perfect. Her eyes slipped shut. What the hell? Apparently she took too long, and still hadn't started to respond. He pulled away – an even sadder look in his eyes.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," He said, and she could tell he was kicking himself – even in his inebriated state,"I'm an idiot – I'm sorry."

She threw her arms up around his neck before he could utter another apology – and pressed her lips right back up against his. She could tell she had taken him by surprise, but he still managed to react faster than she had. She felt his arms come around her, pulling her gently closer to him. She rotated, they were chest to chest, and her legs were up on the table, around him – his arms keeping her up purely by holding her as close at he was. She shifted her lips against his, taking that all too kissable, tormenting lower lip into her mouth. She heard him moan just a little bit – the vibrations crossing between them like fire.

"Shit," He said, pushing himself further back on the table so that she was in his lap, "I thought for a second you had been spared. I'm sorry."

"What're you apologizing for now?" She asked him, looking up.

"I'm being punished," He said again, "And apparently taking my mistakes out on me just isn't enough he's gonna pull you into it too."

He? She reminded herself that he was at least a little drunk.

"God?"

"Or whoever else is fucking up there."

"Fitz, I don't think that God punishes us – not like this," She replied, and he nodded, "You can't put this on him. We'll find who really did this – we'll clear you. I'm going to get you out of this. I promise."

He looked down at her for a second, then leaned down and kissed her again. So softly, gentle. His arms snaked around her, only tight enough to be able to feel her against him – it was wet. Wetter than she expected, but it was sort of nice. He was slow, cautious – she could feel the little imperfections in his lips brushing against hers. That was until she put her hand up on the side of his face and realized that he was crying. She pulled herself away, and his head just sort of fell onto her shoulder.

She took a deep breath, and put her hand against the back of his head, his hair was soft – just as she had imagined. Somehow the mood had shifted, and even though she was in his arms – she was holding him. He was crying into her shoulder, and she just let him get it out. She rested the side of her face against his head. She whispered into his ear as he sort of went still, though she heard soft little sobs. She turned her face to kiss the side of his head through his hair, then he cried both of them off to sleep.


	7. A New Day

Trampled Roses

Chapter Six: A New Day

Olivia sat in the living room the next day on the couch with Huck. She had very carefully been able to navigate her way through the house without anyone catching her back up to her room before anyone was awake. Of course, that didn't mean that Huck didn't know – he usually did – he just didn't say anything. He was good like that. She was trying not to think about what had happened the night before as she tried to help Huck as much as possible. She had left Fitz in the basement that morning, he had since emerged, and judging by the way he was acting he understood what was happening. They couldn't let anyone know what had happened the night before – she had to focus on clearing his name before she figured out anything else. She had a hunch, but that was about it. She knew that Mellie had a larger hand in this than they were originally thinking – but that wasn't much, was it? As soon as it came almost common knowledge at this point that she was having an affair – for almost five years – it was only a matter of time. What else was she hiding?

"How's it coming Huck?" She asked – she had learned a while ago not to ask to many questions of him while he was working.

"It's going to be a little while longer, and I'm not even sure it's going to work," He told her, handing her the phone record with several instances of the same number on the records, " I got you Paul Mosley."

She looked down at the paper, she had asked before she was sure that Paul was Mellie's boyfriend. She didn't have the heart to tell him that though, and she looked down at the records. They had two or so phone calls each day, right up until the day that she died. She didn't talk to him that day? That was at least a little bit interesting. Worth noting.

Fitz was sitting in the chair in the corner, and Olivia could feel his eyes on her for a second – then they were gone. She felt herself be sad about it for as second, but that was all she allowed. She couldn't worry about 'them' now – if there was a strict 'them' though she had a feeling at the current moment there wouldn't be all that many to fight for him. He was still being reported like he was the police's first suspect. However, some of the news channels that had gotten bored with reporting the same news about it and were starting to investigate into Mellie – this was what she was hoping they were doing. Better yet, the stations starting to look into Mellie's past were gaining viewers. This was better than she could have even expected. Cyrus was wearing a hole in the floor pacing – he was worried, but they were in the best shape that they could possibly be in. Better than expected. As long as they didn't find the knife...

"What're we going to do?" Cyrus said, "We have to do something."

"We're going to release that Fitz knew about the affair," She told him, "But we just have to make sure we have proof that he knew about it two years ago – before he even ran for president. We have to prove that him knowing had nothing to do with the case."

"How do we do that?" Cyrus asked, and they both ended up turning around to look at Fitz.

"That's not exactly something you tell all your friends," He said, "And I only told my lawyer that day."

"Your lawyer, how long have you known him? Can he be trusted?"

"He's been my lawyer – I don't know – fifteen years? Yeah, he's trustworthy."

Said the man who married Mellie.

"Call your lawyer, have him come here," Olivia said, and he gave her a weird look.

"He doesn't handle this kind of stuff – he reads over contracts, does pre-nups..."

"Just get him here," Olivia told him.

"Yes, boss," He said, heading into the other room with his phone.

"How're we going to prove it?" Cyrus asked and Olivia took a deep breath.

"We have to find someone who would vouch for him," Olivia said and Cyrus rolled his eyes.

"No one's going to do that now."

"So we sit on it for a while – maybe no one needs to know," Olivia said, "Or we could agree to a polygraph..."

"Liv, you can't be serious," Cyrus said, "You know how backwards and manipulated those questions are. The police bend every answer."

"We could train him."

"Train him?" Cyrus looked like he was questioning more than her plan – probably her sanity, "To what? Fake a polygraph?"

"It's actually not that hard," Huck said.

"It doesn't matter," Cyrus said, "The problem is how the results are used, not what they are."

"He's coming," Fitz said, tossing his phone onto the couch, "I don't know what he's going to do, but..."

"Good," Olivia said.

"I got it," Huck said, scrolling down his screen, and Olivia just about dove onto the couch next to him, "The number belongs to a Lawrence Folden."

"Does that name ring a bell?" Olivia asked Fitz, and he shook his head.

"He's a florist," Huck provided, as Olivia just kept looking at Fitz, trying to will him to remember something, "From Santa Monica?"

"Why is a florist calling from a restricted number?" Olivia wasn't asking Huck, she was asking Fitz.

"I don't know," Huck answered anyways, Fitz shrugged.

"Three times in one day," Olivia replied, picking the records back up off the coffee table, "Wait – are all these restricted numbers the same guy?"

"Ah, I can check," Huck said, taking the records back as Olivia took a deep breath, and her personal phone started ringing.

It was her mother's face that popped up on the screen, she had just gotten out. Clara had probably just picked her up. She excused herself from the room She walked out onto the porch and down the steps, where she found a picnic table. Crazy she had been here how many days? She had lost count. Regardless, she was sure she didn't even know that it was there as she hit 'send' on her phone and pressed it into her ear.

"Hey, mom," Olivia said, taking a deep breath – it was always hit or miss when her mother was just getting out, either she was on cloud nine, or she was lower than dog shit.

"Hey, Liv," She said, and Olivia breathed a sigh of relief, she was high – she wanted to live, at least for the next couple days.

"You're feeling good?" Olivia double checked.

"I am," She replied, "I just wanted to thank you for taking care of Clara."

"I didn't do much, mom," Olivia said, a pang of guilt as she said it, "I'm in California working a case."

"Well I'm sure you squared everything away, you always do."

That part was true, even if she did hear it every time her mother got out. She wondered if this was how people whose parents were imprison felt. She could probably say everything that she thought he mother would say to herself in her head before her mother got the chance. It was usually always along the same lines as other things that she had said before. All of it about how what had happened wasn't going to happen again. That she was changing that she was getting better. Olivia hated it all. But mostly, she hated hating it. She wanted her mother to be ok – for the cycle to stop and for her to move on. However, she wasn't all too hopeful. Another thing she hated. She felt like a bad daughter – but she couldn't hear the speech again. Not right now.

"Where are you now, mom?"

"Clara has a dance tonight, I'm taking her to get shoes," She said, and Olivia smiled – Clara could use that, a little bit of normal.

"Good," Olivia said, as she spotted Fitz coming down towards her, "Hey, listen – I have to go. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Ok," She said somewhat happily – and Olivia hung up.

"Your mom?" He asked, and she nodded as he sat down across from her, "In good spirits today?"

"Yeah," She said, and he nodded.

"So we're not talking about last night?"

"Nope."

"That's what I figured."

"I don't need to talk about it – there will be plenty of time for that later," She told him, "What I need is to keep you out of prison."

"That's fair," He replied, and she nodded, "I'd kind of like that too."

He was in better spirits too, that was a plus. It made her feel a whole hell of a lot better than when he was sobbing on her shoulder.

"I need to know how you found out about the affair."

"This isn't what I came out here to talk about."

"I know," She said, "Taking a deep breath. But, you have to separate it. I'm still the woman that's going to get you out of this so you're going to have to learn to think of me as two different people – and if you can't do that, than I'm only going to be one person, Governor."

"Ok," He seemed to understand what she was saying, "She forgot that it was her turn to pick the kids up from school. I was mad, because they had ended up sitting out in the rain until they could get a hold of me. So, I went into her office to try and 'talk' to her about it, and there they were. After that it was painfully obvious when she was with him. It didn't really surprise me much – I had kinda had a feeling that there was someone."

"Did anyone see you going in?"

"No, her secretary was out," He said, "Most people were out – it was late."

"What did you do after you saw them?"

"I took a minute, and then I brought the kids home," He said, taking a deep breath, "I realized that deep down, I didn't really give a shit. If that was what she wanted to do, it wasn't like I was screwing her – let her have a field day."

"Did the kids know?"

"No."

"Are you sure you didn't do anything else?"

"No," He said, "I told Cyrus when he asked why Mellie didn't come here with us. I told the lawyer when I finally had had enough. I did what I was supposed to do. I didn't shoot anyone, I didn't kill anyone – I kept quiet. I didn't say anything. When I decided that I was finished with a dead marriage I called a lawyer. I didn't care when I found out, and I don't care now. The only reason I even called the lawyer was because the kids were starting to notice."

"Notice what?" Olivia asked.

"Karen was ten, she wasn't a baby anymore," He said, "She – they were about to get a very warped version of marriage and 'love' engrained in them. I was reading them a story, a stupid fairytale and I realized that they still believed in all that stuff. I was scared that they were going to end up as twisted as Mellie. I didn't want them to grow up like that, I didn't want them to grow up to be that."

"Ok," She said, taking a breath, "When's your lawyer due in?"

"Tomorrow morning," He said, "He had something he had to do tonight. I'm running out of places to put people. I figure I'll throw him in the boat house with Cy. Does Huck want a bed?"

"He's probably more comfortable on the couch," Olivia said, honestly and Fitz nodded, "He might be weirded out if you offer it up."

"Ok," Fitz said as they got up and started walking back towards the house.

"Olivia," Cyrus said as he walked out onto the porch, "The press are starting to call, what do we tell them?"

"That other than his official statements, he's staying out of it," Olivia, "That he wants the investigation to go on without a problem – that he wants who ever did this brought to justice."

"That's good," Cyrus complimented her, and he led them inside.

Between trying to track down information about Mosley, where he was that night just to make sure that they could rule him out officially. While they were trying to figure out who exactly this florist really was. From what they could find, his whole bio and everything they could find on him was legit. He grew up in Florida, moved to California to be in a band. Band didn't work out, ended up in the florist business – it was what his dad did. So why the hell was he calling Mellie? And why especially on a restricted number? There was no reason for it. Unless he was just paranoid, and she wasn't exactly just going to let that fly as an excuse. Huck was working on tracing the number more thoroughly when he once again sent everyone to bed. Cyrus went without issue, which was surprising – and after having spent the night sleeping sitting up on a workbench – she was pretty happy to be lying down in her 'own' bed.

There was a little tap on the door.

"It's me."

"Come in," She told him, rolling over in bed and watching as Fitz eased himself into the room.

"Am I allowed to be here?" He asked, and she nodded as he walked over in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and laid down on the bed with her, "It's lonely – in that room."

"You can stay in here," Olivia told him, holding up the sheets so that he could get underneath them, and she went up to his side – he held her, "Just make sure no one sees you leaving my room in the morning."

"Understood," He said, leaning down and kissing her softly.

"We have a good shot," Olivia told him, "I think we might actually pull this off."

"So all the other times you've told me that were what? Just bullshit to keep me in good spirits?"

"No, I always knew I'd figure it out," She replied and he smiled as she leaned up and kissed him, "And now I'm just that much closer to doing it. At least we have something."

"I just didn't peg you as a glass half full type of person," He said, his hand slowly running up and down her back soothingly.

"I don't like to be pegged," She replied, and he gave her a sort of weak half-smile, she put her hand carefully down on his arm, "When do you get the stitches out?"

"Hell if I remember," He said, taking a deep breath, "I'm sure Cy has it in his phone."

"You have an impressive handler."

"That I do," He said, and she sighed.

She wanted him to talk to her, clearly after last night there was a lot that was still swirling around in his head. She wanted him to be ok, to be 'healthy'. .But she got the feeling that that was never going to be a full option. She brought herself up on her hands and looked down into his face – deciding that that was ok with her. She was never going to be 'ok' in the normal sense of the word either. She was never going to be whole, so maybe it would be ok – good- that he wasn't going to be either.

"What?" He asked her, with a sly smile.

"Nothing."

"You know Karen used to give me these looks sometimes," He said, "Looks like she was trying to piece together what I was thinking – how I was going to process what happened next..."

There was a tear that escaped his eye, and she laid back down to flick it away from his face.

"Fitz – start remembering them without getting so sad," Olivia told him, "They were happy kids – I know it's hard now. And I know I have nothing on the pain you're feeling, but just remember that, ok? Instead of what happened? Remember how excited they were, happy, playful."

"They'd have loved you," Fitz told her tightening his arms around her.

"Glad to hear it," She told him.

"We're never going to just be able to be together, are we?" He asked her, and she took a deep breath.

"Why do you think your lawyer's coming?" Olivia asked him, "If I get you off, no matter how long we wait to show ourselves it will be a problem, for both of us. If I can work the case through your lawyer, have his name on everything, have him show up in court. Then at the end we might have a shot."

But she couldn't use the case as Cyrus had originally intended – no clients busting down her door. That was if Fitz's lawyer was as loyal as he thought – if he was willing to help.

"We're all just going to have to be very careful," Olivia continued, "Here's to hoping your lawyer's good for more than just reading wills."

"Yeah – wait a second," He said, "I changed my will."

"What?"

"Two years ago, after I found out," He said, "You were asking me earlier about what I did after I found out – I changed my will and left everything to the kids. I didn't want Mellie to run off with everything and leave the kids if something ever happened to me."

She couldn't believe her ears. This was perfect, almost too perfect. She could have kissed him. In fact, she did.


	8. Balancing Act

A/N: Hello, everyone - took a while, enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Seven: Balancing Acts

"Good morning," Fitz said sleepily as her eyes drifted open the next morning.

"Morning," She replied, and he very slowly leaned in and kissed her.

It was like he wanted to just lean in and kiss her – but he was afraid. He approached it so slowly because he was scared that she might pull away and turn her head, or push him away. She did neither as he very cautiously brushed his lips over her's – it was so gentle, and quick. It was different than the somewhat messy, he had his whits about him – which made him nervous. She could feel it. He kept his hands to himself, too. She sort of wished he would, use them.

"Did you sleep alright with me taking up half of your bed?"

"Pretty good," She told him as she leaned over and kissed the side of his neck – putting herself purposefully into his arms.

"I'm glad I didn't make anything uncomfortable for you."

"We should go downstairs," Olivia said, as he shrank down a little bit.

"No," He said, pulling her in tighter to him, pressing his forehead against her arm, "We go downstairs and everything changes. Everything is – wrong. Here everything is right. So, let's just stay here – Please? Down there, trying to figure out – I'm broken, I'm a man who's life is over. Here, I'm just a guy...I can pretend that I'm just a guy with a beautiful woman who he adores in his arms."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that if they didn't get up, he would be a gorgeous, broken, tragic, heartbreaking man who would be in prison for something he could never even think about doing. That his chidlren's murders would go un-avenged, and whoever did it would still be running around in the street free. That he wouldn't have a chance to move on, start a new life. Hopefully with her weaved into his story a little bit. She looked down to tell him that he had to get up, that they had to go down, and they had to see if Huck had found anything, or had any new leads. But, he already had his eyes closed again – the hell of reliving every moment, her making him remember things hadn't started for the day. He had fallen back to sleep. He was cute, he was downright adorable. It hurt to think about how mistreated and how hurt he was. To have his children...

She looked over at the clock, his lawyer wasn't due in for two more hours, and Cyrus wouldn't be up for another thirty minutes. She could let him have a few more minutes – as long as the news wasn't getting any more vicious. She knew her time was limited – that as soon as they found the knife – which she was surprised they hadn't yet, Fitz would be the first person they called in to question about it. No matter what it was, or where it had come from. Once they had a murder weapon they could start building a case, until they found it they were still just collecting evidence, postulating theories, and guessing. Which was why they hadn't brought Fitz in again yet. If they tried to bring him in too early, the case would fall apart – it would fall apart anyways, he didn't do it. She knew somehow in her gut that whoever this Lawrence Folden was, he was going to be useful. They just had to find something on him, it had been days. If Huck didn't find something of use to them soon, she might take a field trip down there to see him. How had he not even been photographed? No Facebook? No social media? Nothing?

She took a breath and looked back at Fitz, wrapping her arm around his head. She stroked her hand over his forehead while he slept, she craned her neck down and kissed his hairline. She knew that she was falling, if not already fallen, in love with him. She knew that it wasn't breaking any rules, persay, but it was fire that she was playing with. If anyone found out - well, other than Huck or Cyrus. If something happened – but then she looked back down in his sleeping face and she couldn't help it. What was she supposed to do? He needed her, in more ways than just professionally – and she needed him. She needed to protect him, she needed to help him, and she knew that she was just going to outright need him. She wasn't one to mess around in relationships – if that was what this was. He just seemed to draw her right in. Lying there with him – it just seemed right, so right that she never wanted to get up either. She wanted to just hold him, comfort him. Love him. Help him move on, start a new life.

"Olivia?" She heard Huck just outside the door about a second before he just let himself in, "Oh, Sorry... I..."

"Huck," She said, as she sat up, and Fitz woke up to the fact that Huck was speaking normally, "What is it?"

"I have something on Folden," Huck told her, and by the look on his face – she could tell it wasn't good.

"Go downstairs," She told him, "I'll be down in a minute – Huck."

"Understood," He nodded that he wouldn't say anything, and left the room.

"Well that was awkward," Fitz said, he had frozen lying in the same spot that he had woken up in.

"It's Huck," Olivia said, "He already knew, and he'll keep his mouth shut. C'mon, we have to get up, and you have to go back to your own room."

"...Governor," He nodded, and she gave him a weak smile, "That's how this is going to work, right?"

"I think it's the only way it can," She replied, and he nodded as he walked over to her and kissed her quickly.

"Alright, Miss Pope," He said, and headed out the door, "I'll see you downstairs."

Olivia waited for him to leave, and then hopped into the shower. She had woken up smelling like him, which was something she was sad to wash off – but it was necessary. She got out and threw on an outfit, one of the last that was clean. She remembered vaguely that there had been washing machines down in the basement, so she made a mental note that she needed to remember to use them. When she got downstairs, Cyrus was already sitting on the couch with Fitz, who was watching her not so swiftly. She'd have to talk to him about that later. Cyrus was far too preoccupied to notice anything – but it was still something that needed to be addressed.

"What've we got, Huck?" Olivia asked as she finished walking into the room

"He wouldn't tell us until you got here," Fitz said, and Olivia nodded as she sat down on the arm of the couch – keeping herself almost a full cushion away from Fitz.

"You have my attention, Huck," Olivia said, and Huck swung around the monitor so that all three of them could see what was on it.

Half the screen was taken up by a picture of a man in his early forties. He was blonde, clean cut, to the point of looking almost preppy, and according to the picture cleanly shaven. He looked younger than that, but there were lines on his forehead, and around his eyes that gave his true age away. According to the little bio on the side of the screen, he was actually forty-two, standing five foot eight, and you couldn't tell from the picture because of the angle – but he had brown eyes. Huck had everything, his blood type, his everything – if he had had some sort of record, then Huck would have found it. But what was on the screen looked clean, nothing out of the ordinary – except maybe the fact that he was florist. His jaw was muscular, and from what the picture showed of the top of his shoulders, there was no way he had gotten those picking flowers and making floral arrangements.

"This is Lawrence Folden, forty-two years old, stands five feet, eight inches," Huck said, and then he hit a button on his keyboard.

All the information to the right of the photo changed as the picture stayed put.

"This is Andrew Duncan," Huck told them, and Olivia looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"Lawrence Folden is an alias?" Olivia asked, and Huck nodded, "Why – what does he have to hide?"

"His name isn't Lawrence just like mine isn't really Huck," He said, and Olivia gave him a look.

"We need the room," She said, and Cyrus and Fitz's heads jerked over towards her.

They were both looking at her like she had six heads, but that didn't really matter. She was visibly shaken, and she was sure that both of them had picked up on that too. She just looked back at them with as firm an expression that told them that this was in no way a joke. Eventually Fitz got up and left the room, from the sound of his footsteps he went out onto the back deck. Cyrus stood his silent ground for all of a few more minutes, then left when both she and Huck made it clear they wouldn't be speaking until he had left too. Even once he did, it took Olivia a minute to gather her thoughts enough to say anything.

"So you're saying," Olivia said, "That the man that Mellie called three times the day that she died, the florist – he's ex-CIA?"

"Retired B613," Huck was more specific, he spoke a little quieter, "He was – what I was. He killed people, for a living. And it wasn't just that day. I have records going back almost a year."

"What?" Olivia said, not entirely sure what she was looking at – even her head was spinning a little bit.

There were telephone records scrolling, apparently on repeat with highlighted red numbers. Some were numbers, some were just the word Restricted. They seemed to be flowing right by her eyes in a pattern, there was almost a rhythm to it.

"All the red highlighted are numbers that can be traced back to him," Huck told her, and she looked over at him.

"Oh, my God," Olivia said, and Huck nodded.

"It gets worse," He said, and she couldn't resist giving him a look like 'Seriously? How could it possibly be?', "I talked to a – contact – that I have. They said that Duncan's been hiring himself out for contracts over the past five years. And there's something else you should see. I found a much more recent picture of him this morning."

He hit another button and the picture changed to show a much different man's photo. He had shaved his head, and in reaching up with his right hand to get his sunglasses – there was a tattoo on his wrist that was clearly visible. Olivia looked over at Huck, and he zoomed in on it. The picture started to get grainy, but she could imagine that whatever it was would look quite like writing in the dark, on a quick look. She had to take a deep breath as the doorbell rang.

"You didn't bring this right up because?"

"I didn't want to scare your boyfriend – he looks like one good scare would do him in," Huck said simply, and Olivia nodded, she was frightened herself, "Relax, if he wanted to be going after him, he would have already. It's not exactly like he's hiding out. The only problem is if he knows we're looking – "

The doorbell rang, and Huck dove to turn off the monitor as Fitz walked back through the room to get to the door. Olivia was still wide eyed and processing, Huck shot her a look, and she took a deep breath trying to compose herself. Fitz peaked out the window, and then opened up the door. He stepped aside, as Olivia swallowed – trying to push what Huck had just been telling her to the back of her head as Cyrus rejoined them, and a short man walked into the house. Well, at least he looked short – she couldn't really tell from her position on the couch while he was standing next to Fitz. He had thinning gray hair, and very kind eyes. He was perfect, and she could already tell that if she spun it just right for him, he would help them – no problem.

"Everyone, this is Donald Campbell," Fitz said, "Don, this is Olivia Pope, Cyrus Beene, and Huck."

"We were wondering if you could pull your records of Fitz changing his will two years ago?" Olivia asked him and he nodded.

"I got called all the way out here for something I could fax over?" He asked, not angry – just suspicious.

"The police are holding Fitz as their number one suspect."

"I've been watching the news – there's no way this guy…"

"We just want to keep all our resources close," Olivia told him, keeping it friendly, and he nodded.

Honestly, it was starting to look more and more like they weren't going to have to go to court. If they could crack the case, and deliver it to the cops in a way that wasn't overbearing and in a way that said 'we did your job for you, because we're better at it than you'. They might be able to pull it off without Fitz's name being pulled through the mud any more than it already had. Some police offers, particularly the lazy ones that would automatically just assume a man was guilty just because he had motive. Plenty of people had motive to kill plenty of other people – it didn't make them guilty. Though, the fact that they hadn't brought Fitz in since talking to Mosley was somewhat frustrating to her. They were building a case – she knew it, but so were they. And if this guy was B613 – even with her limited knowledge of it from what Huck had briefly described over the years – he would know better than to leave the murder weapon lying around. This was going to help them.

"I'm back up," He said, and Olivia nodded – happy with his intellect so far, "And I knew that Fitz knew about the affair she was having with Mosley."

"Exactly," Olivia told him, and he nodded.

"I'll call my secretary, have her fax over the copies of the different wills."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

The secretary sent both copys right over, and Olivia and Cyrus spent the rest of the afternoon by that point, piecing together a press release. They were going to have to construct it just perfectly so that the police couldn't possibly twist it enough to make it as bullet proof as they could. They needed copies of the will to keep up appearances if it was ever questioned, which it would be – and Fitz had authorized his lawyer's office to give copies freely to the police department when they came looking for them – if they even bothered. They also had to keep it short and simple as to avoid confusing anyone and therefore having it ignored. They had finally agreed on a statement, and had Don look over it quickly with a fresh set of eyes before she had Cyrus send it out. She was exhausted, and looking forward to getting to calm down a little bit – but she knew that Huck was waiting to talk to her.

"Olivia," He said as Cyrus headed into the next room, and she was getting up from the table – where Fitz and Donald were still sitting.

"C'mon," Fitz told Don as he stood up, "I'll show you out to the boat house, I'm sorry you're going to have to be bunking with Cyrus.."

"He's wound up a little tight, huh?"

Olivia could help but give a little smile, as Fitz ushered him out into the backyard. Cyrus came back into the kitchen – shot them both looks – then went out to the boat house himself for the night. Olivia took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table, waiting for Huck to start talking.

"So you think that someone ordered a hit on an ex-governor's family?" Olivia asked him, and he shook his head, "What?"

"You're getting too close, your judgment's getting cloudy," Huck replied, "Hiring a hit doesn't usually take a year full of phone calls. No one's going after the governor directly – and if really was Duncan in that house. If he was supposed to kill all four of them, he would have. I think that someone paid to have him set up."

"Which would be easy for a trained assassin," Olivia said, and Huck nodded, "He planted the murder weapon somewhere."

"He's sitting on it," Huck said, "I'm not sure why – but that seems to be what's happening."

"But why was Mellie talking to him the first place?" Olivia asked, "It doesn't make sense. What did she think, she was going to frame him up for her own murder? What would that accomplish?"

"I'm just telling you how it looks," Huck said, and Olivia rolled her eyes, "Not a lot about this makes sense anyway. Unless…"

"Unless your boyfriend's guilty," Huck said, "He might not have been able to do it with his own two hands, but he could have hired the hit, made the calls from Mellie's phone."

"He didn't do this," Olivia said instantly, and Huck raised his eyebrows, "I am very good at what I do…"

"But you've never been romantically involved with any of your clients before," Huck pointed out, and Olivia took a deep breath.

"He couldn't have done it, ok?" Olivia told him, "What motive would he have for killing those kids? You didn't see him that night – he wouldn't hurt anyone."

"You shouldn't be involved with him."

"I'm not _involved_."

"Maybe you're not having sex, but you both spent the night in the basement the other night. He spent the night in your room last night," Huck pointed out, "The way that you keep looking at each other, both of you."

"He didn't do this, Huck," Olivia said, she could feel it in her core.

"How can you trust anything he's told you? It's not as if you knew him before this."

"Huck," Olivia said, but she cut herself off as she spotted Fitz making his way back across the porch.

"I'll heighten security," Huck told her pointedly as Fitz walked back into the kitchen, "I hope you're right."

"I am," Olivia said, turning and leaving the room.

She went up to her room and filled her suitcase with all her dirty clothes, then lugged it down like a basket down to the basement. She threw her clothes into the washing machine, then sat down on the work bench. Was Huck right? Not about Fitz, but about her? Had she let herself get too close? Could Fitz have – NO. This was ridiculous. There was no way that Fitz could have possibly done something like that. No one was that good. There would be inconsistancies in his story, big ones. He wasn't a monster, he was kind, he was sweet. She loved him. She loved him. She couldn't love a monster, right? That wasn't possible. She took a deep breath, as she heard someone take a step onto the top stair. She recognized Fitz's shoe.

"Liv?" He whispered, "You down here?"

"I am," She said, and then he came down the rest of the steps, rather slowly, "I have to wait and throw my clothes in the dryer."

"Oh, I thought that might be it," He said, walking over and sitting down next to her, "I was just thinking about going to bed – figured it wouldn't be a good idea after Huck walking in this morning, right?"

"It's Huck, I'd be surprised if he didn't already know you were in there when he walked in," Olivia told him and Fitz furrowed his brow.

"Why would he…"

"Huck's ex-CIA," Olivia told him, and Fitz paused, "Not much escapes him, except maybe sometimes normal social etiquette."

"Never would have guessed with all the tech stuff," Fitz said, and Olivia nodded, "Hey, Livy?"

"What?"

"Why did Huck say that about 'heightening security'?" He sounded nervous, "Does it have to do with whatever you two are keeping from Cy and I?"

"He just worries. As much time as he spent in the CIA – doing what he did, it's enough to make anyone paranoid," Olivia said, as the washer buzzed, and she got up to throw it into the dryer.

She could feel Fitz's eyes on her as she bent over, but what else was he supposed to do? But there was a chill that ran down her spine – like one of the first days that she had been there. She took a deep breath as she stood up, and hit the button to start it up was being ridiculous. Fitz didn't do it any more than she or Cy had. She turned around – and took a deep breath. She felt guilty. How could she even think for a second that Fitz could have done it?

"Everything ok?" He asked, and she forced a nod, "I mean, relatively."

"How are you feeling?" She asked, extending her hand, taking his.

"Tired – I just want this to be over," He said, and she nodded, "I just wanted to come say goodnight."

"Why are you telling me here?" She asked, kissing the back of his hand softly, "C'mon, let's get you to bed."


	9. Not Scared

Trampled Roses

Chapter Eight: Not Scared

Olivia took a deep breath, and a little huff at the screen of Huck's computer. She had once again found herself sitting on the couch, actively watching Huck do his thing. She was pretty sure it was just going to be them, and Fitz who was in the basement for the night. Huck was trying to pull up more information about Duncan – the killer. At least now they knew precisely who they were looking in to. The only problem was – the more they found out, at least in her eyes, the more it seemed that Mellie had something to do with it. It was nearing midnight, and she was starting to get the distinct feeling that they were looking into the wrong person. However, she had no one to bounce this idea off of because Huck was looking into Fitz just as much as he was looking into this Duncan guy – and Cyrus had mysteriously left about half way through the afternoon. She got the distinct feeling at around seven, which was almost six hours ago – that they shouldn't be expecting him back that night. They had exhausted Campbell, who had agreed to help in any way that he could. It had been almost a week since they put out the statement, and they had been using Campbell as a puppet since then. Even doing that seemed to be a little much for him – she was pretty sure they had run him into the ground on day two. But he was a good sport.

"Huck, what're we finding?" Olivia asked him and he shrugged.

"Basics," Huck replied, "We've gotten about a week delayed here because you don't want your name on your boyfriend's court case. So, we're a little more behind than I'd like. I just got into his banking history."

"Ok, did you find anything interesting?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"No, I just got – wait," He said, and Olivia's head perked up.

"What?"

"There's payments in here, as was expected from his hire outs," Huck said, and Olivia nodded, "But there's nothing from any accounts linked to the Grants. And, even more strange there's no payments at all since about a month before that night. There's nothing."

"So maybe since he botched it, he got rid of it?"

"No," Huck said, "Even then, usually it's half before, half after. But there was no before – and we would be able to see it in his account activity."

"So we're saying what? A mother and two children was a freebee?"

"I don't know what that means," Huck replied, then he started typing furiously again, "He might have another account..."

"Huck," Olivia took a deep breath – this was bugging her.

They were safe as long as the murder weapon, or something that they could say was the murder weapon didn't turn up. However, she didn't trust this Duncan guy enough to know whether he'd destroyed it – or if he had it as a card he was about to play. No matter what she told Fitz, and how neutral she remained about the subject, the fact that they hadn't called him in for questioning again was an awful fact. It meant that they were building a case, and she needed to know what they had. How solid or, she was assuming flimsy it was. They had been doing triple duty, investigating the case how they would – investigating the case as the police would, and training up Campbell so that he would be able to carry the case – at least in court while they ran things from behind the scenes. Though they all knew that as soon as it went to court – they had lost just a little bit. The public would always question whether or not they declare Fitz did it or not would be irrelevant – his political career would be over.

"What?"

"I'm so glad I'm not the lawyer anymore," She breathed, "I need you to hack into the police's database – see what kind of case they're building against Fitz."

"That might take me a little while," Huck replied, and Olivia nodded – she figured it would.

"And I want you to look into how we might approach Duncan," She added, and Huck turned and looked at her, like she might have had something popping out of the top of her skull, "I know, we've been doing everything we can to try and steer clear of him. But, by the end of this we're going to have to eventually talk to him."

"You want to pull this guy in?" Huck asked, "If he even found out we were looking into him..."

"Huck, please?" Olivia said, "We have you, we'll be fine."

"I'm sure I'm a much bigger comfort than your boyfriend there."

"Huck."

"What? I'm serious. What kind of guy doesn't do anything while a woman is being attacked?"

"He was being attacked too. It was in the middle of the night."

"What if it turns out that Fitz is the one who pulled the trigger here," Huck said, taking a deep breath – he had been shooting Fitz as scathing as Huck got looks all week, "It would make a whole lot of sense if he did hire it."

"He didn't."

"He could have."

"But he didn't," Olivia insisted.

"Olivia, you try, to be normal," Huck said, "You put on a very good show, and you've got everyone convinced – I think sometimes you even have yourself convinced. But I know you. This relationship is dangerous – and not just in the, there's a forty percent chance he's the kind of guy that hires a hit out on his whole family – but in the emotional sense, for you. If this goes south, if he ends up having done it, or if they bring him in for this – or for some other reason you and him don't work out – you're not going to be ok. If you're wrong about him..."

"I'm not wrong."

"Which is exactly why this is so dangerous, because what if you are?" Huck said, and Olivia took a deep breath, "I know, given the odds and given what we can see of him – the odds are slim that he had anything to do with this. There's no way the guy he's been showing us would do anything like this – it's a no brian-er. But Liv – what if he botched it? What if he took the kids by mistake – he got carried away? Would you be able to believe that he would hire out to kill that bitch of a wife of his? Because from what we know, I'm thinking any red blooded guy would be at least tempted."

Olivia took a deep breath.

"No," She stuck with her gut, "There's no way that he had anything to do with this. Even if it was just the hit on Mellie. He wouldn't. He was going to divorce her, remember? He didn't have a problem with whatever stigma – there was no motive in there for murder. He didn't love her."

"Does he love you?" Huck asked, and Olivia shot him a look.

"That's inappropriate."

"Does he?" Huck asked, but he knew she wasn't going to reply, "Because if he didn't love Mellie – he lied for a very long time. And if this is what happens to women he doesn't love – I sure hope he loves you a hell of a lot."

He brought up the picture of Mellie that they had gotten from the station. She was lying in the bed, her throat slit deep, deep so that it had only taken maybe less than a minute for her to die. Her eyes were wide open – she looked, scared. Olivia stood up and closed her eyes. It was the same image they had seen the night it had happened – but for some reason it was scarier to her now. It sent chills down her spine, and she opened her eyes. Huck hadn't moved the picture – so she adverted her gaze. Right to a picture that from what she understood was taken for show. But nonetheless, it was a giant picture of Mellie, sitting in a rocking chair holding a newborn Gerry, Karen standing next to her with her head on her knee.

"Get rid of the picture, Huck," Olivia told him, not realizing her voice was raised until after the words were out of her mouth and he did – she took a deep breath, "I want you to look into Mellie. Stop looking into Fitz – Don't say you haven't been, but I know you have. If you haven't found anything interesting to tell me about in a week, you probably won't find anything. Look into Mellie."

"Ok," Huck said, and Olivia nodded, "I really do hope you're right."

She needed fresh air, but didn't make any sort of excuse or goodbye as she walked out of the room and into the kitchen. She barely paused to grab her water from the table, and then headed right out onto the porch. She took a sip as she went and put it down at the patio table. The lights were off down in the boathouse, so she figured it was still pretty safe to assume that Campbell was out cold in his bed. She let her eyes close for a second, then looked up at the stars. She sighed, and rubbed her eyes a little. She was exhausted. She was going to give herself exactly one minute of fear about looking into this guy – and then was was going to be done. Brave face was going on, and she was going to be as ruthless and as hard as she needed be to keep Fitz safe.

One...Two...Three... She let it all go. All of it, and let the fear in. She could feel the stress, and the pain, and the terrifying, paralyzing fear get right in. Her whole body was tensing up, and she could feel her heart pumping in her neck. She tried to take a breath, and it was like there was cement that had formed around her lungs, trapping her in so that they couldn't really expand to what they should be. She had had enough, and the walls started going back up. She reached up to dab the few tears that had escaped out of her eyes – and took a deep breath. She pushed everything down as much as possible – but she knew it was going to take a few minutes to get her barrings back to what they should be. Just as she was coming back together, she heard the door behind her slide open, then closed again. She just wanted this to be done.

"You're out here late, again," She heard Fitz's gentle, sexy by nature voice as she looked over and he was standing next to her – a couple of inches away.

There was truth to what he was saying. The porch, and more specifically that corner of the porch had become her little spot to unwind. If she was going to give herself a minute of fear, then she still felt safe. She was close enough to the house so that someone would hear her screaming, and the view was nice. Even in the dark, she could usually look down and see the moonlight coming off the lake. It was nice, and there was usually a breeze in the evening. It was getting colder out – which only told her that she had been there too long. Washington had rain, and New York was buried under four feet of snow, this was nowhere near either of those.

"Just unwinding," She said, turning and taking his hand, and bringing it to her hip – he was always so cautious about even touching her – she put his other hand on the other, and then wrapped her arms up around his neck.

"Oh, I see," He said, he seemed uncomfortable, looking over his shoulder a little bit.

"You realize you can touch me, right?" Olivia asked him, and he smiled a little bit, and she noticed that he slipped his thumbs through her belt loops.

"I didn't know if I was allowed, and didn't want to scare you," He replied, looking over his shoulder again, "There's also the fact that Huck's watching my every move."

Except it wasn't _just_ just now. The night he was drunk in the basement aside, he never was the first one to just put his hands on her. He would stand there in front of her, and she would be able to see it in his eyes that he wanted to reach out and touch her, hold her – but he wouldn't. It was like he was a beaten dog that she had just taken in. This was probably the first time it occurred to her, but he was probably more scared of her than she probably should be of him. It was going to be a while before the shell of a human being would trust her enough to be playful and puppy like again. No matter how much she wished she could just will him to come out from hiding under the coffee table. She felt sad – this at least, was hopefully something she could fix in him.

"He's just cautious."

"He just thinks that I ordered a hit on my family," Fitz corrected her, and she was a little surprised, "And now he's worried about his friend – you forget that I had the basement door open – your voices carry incredibly well. Then you sounded upset, and came out here, so I gave you a couple minutes head start, and came up to check on you. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," She said, and she saw the red flag go up in his eyes – but he didn't say anything, "I'll be ok, how about you? How are you?"

"I'd be a whole lot better knowing that the main investigator that's supposed to be on my side didn't already think I was guilty," He replied, and she stepped closer to him, pulling his neck down so he wasn't towering over her quite as much.

"He's just worried about me," Olivia replied, taking a deep breath, "You should see what happens any time the airport security goes up – he's at my apartment in twenty minutes."

"Seriously?" Fitz asked, and she nodded – leaning up and kissing him softly, "What was that fot?"

"Because there were parts of that conversation that you really didn't need to hear," She replied, and he shrugged.

"I'll hear it all eventually," He said sadly, looking down and she fixed his hair, "Careful though, Cyrus sees us he'll have a cow."

"Cyrus isn't coming back tonight," She said, listening to her gut, "That phone call, before he left? I'm willing to bet there's an ninety-nine percent chance it was James calling."

"Oh, you thought so too?"

"Well, that and he's here for someone's birthday special."

"You really do your research, huh?" He said, and she nodded.

"I do," She said, she could feel him starting to drop his hands – and she grabbed one to hold in her's, "I'm tired, take me up to bed?"

"Absolutely," He replied, giving her a wary smiled as he walked about half a step behind her over to the door.

For show mostly, he still had all of his stuff – except for his phone charger – in his own room – though he had been spending just about every night sleeping in her room with her. He murmured something softly as he let go of her hand at the top of the stairs and went off into his room to get changed. Without thinking about it much, she continued on down the hall and into her room – throwing on her usual t-shirt and shorts to sleep in before crawling in to bed. Before she was even under the covers there was a little knock on the door as it slipped open. She looked up just in time to see Fitz slipping in, and she opened up the covers on 'his' side of the bed.

"Fitz," She said, rolling over to face him – then pressing herself up against him – he put his nose into her hair.

"You always smell so good," He whispered his hand stroking her arm so softly that if he wasn't him, she wouldn't believe it, "It's nice, relaxing."

She smiled, her face just about buried into his chest, because he was so cute, so sweet. She turned her head up and kissed him softly. He reciprocated in that cautious, but still fully awake – and some how sending what felt like volts of electricity into her through his tongue. She brought herself closer to him, and wrapped her leg up over his, and around him. Feeling around a little under the covers, she eventually found his hand and put it on her side, holding it there as she dipped her tongue a little deeper into his mouth. She pulled away – and he didn't lean in for more. She would have been at least a little put off under ordinary circumstances. However, between the look on his face – the fact that his eyes were still shut – and everything she had come to expect from him, it was perfectly acceptable. She smiled a little bit at the look on his face, and then snuggled the side of her face into his chest.

"Fitz?"

"Mmhmmm?"

"I'm not scared of you," She said, and she could feel just about every muscle in his body relax, "Hold me?"

He slipped his arms around her as best he could without shifting them both dramatically. In his eagerness to do as she asked, he was holding her tighter than he ordinarily would. She smiled up at him, she loved it – she couldn't even explain how much she felt for him. She took a deep breath, and he was smiling down at her. He bent his neck slightly, and brushed his lips over her forehead, so lightly that if she hadn't been watching him do it, she would have no idea.

"Livy," He whispered, "Mind if I break a rule and talk about the case?"

She grumbled incoherently.

"What would happen if we just left?" He asked, and she jerked her head up to look at him, "If me and you just took off. I know the police are building a case, but they don't have a warrant or anything. Why don't we just go? Dissapear? What happens then?"

"You're automatically guilty in the eyes of everyone," Olivia replied, "No matter what. I mean, the odds of them finding us are slim if we do it right, but we'll always be looking over our shoulders. Until eventually they find us and we're shipped back and then they throw you in jail for a very, very long time."

"So it would be easier to stay and prove I'm innocent now?" He asked, and Olivia nodded, "Right. I figured."

"It'd be a public relations nightmare if you fled."

"Alright, just wondering," He replied, taking a deep breath.

"Case talk over?"

"You're really going to track this guy down?"

"Relax, he won't be anywhere near you."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"It'll be ok – there's more to the story – we just have to get it out of him. Usually in cases like these where the hired gun is so professional - "

She stopped, they bragged. They didn't really care who knew because they were good at what they did, and they would tell you anything, as long as you didn't have a badge. They wouldn't confess to anything, but they'd beat so well around the bush that they'd tell you exactly what happened, without telling you what happened. But Fitz didn't need to hear that – that there was some guy running around bragging about being behind the big murder case. She wondered if it was different because there were children involved. If that was against some secret assassin's code. She wasn't exactly ready to tell Huck to do whatever he needed to do to get it out of him.

"What?" He was concerned, but she jsut shook her head.

"Nothing, I'll probably just send Huck to talk to him," Olivia replied, and he was gazing down at her, "What?"

"I-"

"What is it?" She asked, unable not to smile a little bit.

"Just in case you didn't answer Huck because you didn't know how to," He took a deep breath, "I love you."


	10. Not So Secret

A/N: So sorry that this took so long, guys! I'll try to be better about updating this one... enjoy the chapter :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Nine: Not So Secret

Olivia woke up the next morning, red flags still up and waving wildly in her head. The night before, she had kissed him, let him hold her tighter - well, made him hold her tighter. He fell asleep not too long after, and she had laid there listening to his heartbeat until she too had fallen asleep. It wasn't _just_ that he was a man who had just lost his family, and that there was about a hundredth of a percent of a chance that he was responsible for it. That was one of the flags, not the biggest though. But, there was always a little bit of fear whenever a relationship got to this point. Usually, it meant that it was time to cut her loses and run about as quickly as she could in the opposite direction. She had never told a guy that she loved them, too. Love was dangerous, if she was to admit that she loved someone - it wasn't just her anymore. And it wasn't fair just to let the man love her without letting him know her feelings - which was why she bolted. Because usually, he was in deeper than she was. She kept them all at arm's length. What if she let herself love someone, and then something happened?

She looked up at Fitz, who was still sound asleep and she didn't want to take off. She wanted to tell the red flags and all her internal, self preservation alarms that were sounding off louder than she had ever heard them to go to hell. She wanted to stay. She loved him, which scared her way more than anything else that was going on around them. She thought that she would be safe from any kind of thing like this for a while - but, she understood it. Because she loved him, too. And, it was to the point where she had already admitted it to herself, and even if she never told him - she was already in trouble. And if she didn't tell him, it wouldn't make a difference.

"Good morning," He breathed - startling her a little, not having realized that he had woken up, "Sorry."

"It's fine," She replied, her usual self coming back to her as she put herself back into his arms.

"I thought you weren't afraid of me."

"I'm not," She lied, she was terrified - but not that he would cause any physical harm, "I just didn't realize you were awake."

"Sorry," He replied, pulling her a little closer - watching her face for any signs of her protesting, she didn't.

"Mm, Fitz," She smiled as she nearly burrowed her face into his shoulder.

"Livy?" He whispered, and for the first time she heard that note - a second of actual happiness.

"I-" She started, and he watched her carefully, "I-"

"Liv, don't-" He sat up, realizing what was going on in her head, "Don't - shhh. Don't worry about it, ok?"

"But, Fitz.."

"Don't," He said, and she was a little confused, but he leaned down and kissed her - this time a little bit more like he had the first night, "Shh, it's ok. It's not a big deal - It's too soon-"

"Fitz..." She replied, and he shook his head, then kissed her forehead.

"Don't, Livy," He said, getting out of the bed carefully, kissing the top of her head, "C'mon, let's get downstairs. I'm sure Huck's going nuts. I'd hate for Cyrus to think he has to come get us."

"Fitz," She said, about to protest again, and he paused to listen when her phone started to ring, "We'll talk later?"

"Whatever you want," He replied, looking at the caller ID as he passed her her phone from the night stand, "Stephen?"

"He works for me, he's holding down the fort in D.C," She said, getting up, and heading out of the room to answer it.

She grabbed a bathrobe to put on over what she had worn to bed, and headed downstairs. Huck was already up, and in the living room. She looked out the window - it was raining. She peeked out of the back door in the kitchen, just to make sure that Cyrus and Campbell were still down there. It still looked quiet down there, so she assumed they were still just getting up as she went into the more formal living room to answer the phone.

"Hey, Stephen," She said, curling herself up on the couch.

"How's the case going?" Stephen asked, in a sing-song voice that sounded like he was waiting to tell her something - and she got the feeling that he wasn't pleased.

"It's going fine, Stephen - a little challenging," She replied, in just a smiley a tone, "How's it on that end?"

"Oh, we just have a pile of cases," He said, and Olivia could feel her eyes expanding, "About two that need immediate attention."

"You can handle one, did you hire someone new yet?" She asked, the last she had talked to him they had agreed that they needed to hire someone.

"I've got two guys that I'm thinking of," He replied, and Olivia nodded.

"So, call them both in," She said, taking a deep breath, "Have them help you, and when I get back we'll figure out which one we're keeping."

"Ok," Stephen replied, taking a deep breath, "This case you're on is like a circus act. When is it going to be done?"

"I don't know - we've got a pretty good lead," Olivia replied, and Stephen sighed.

"Liv, we need you and Huck back here," He said, and Olivia nodded.

"I know," She said, taking a deep breath, "It won't be too much longer - either way."

"Ok," He said, taking a deep breath, "I'll call both of them in. Should I let them know it's a competition?"

"No," Olivia replied, "We'll get a better idea of their work ethic. Just the contracts that they're signing, tell them that they're both on trial bases, and that it's just how we do business."

"Ok," Stephen said, "Hurry up and get back, ok?"

"I'll try," Olivia replied, and she hung up.

She headed back upstairs to get changed. She heard Fitz's shower turning off as she got onto the bottom stair, and paused for a second before heading up the rest of the way and making her way to the landing. She was halfway down the hall back to her room before she heard his bedroom door open, and she turned around. He was standing there, still dripping a little with a towel wrapped around his waist. She blinked. She realized when he held her that he was pretty heftily solid, and that he took care of himself at least a little bit - she had no idea that she would be looking at what she was now. She was sure that the fact that he was soaking wet, his hair matted down a little bit and fresh from the shower wasn't really helping, but even from as far away as she was she could see the lines in his abs, and the definition of his chest without a problem. She knew she was gawking a little bit, but she really didn't have the mental capacity to realize it enough so that she would register to walk away.

"Everything ok?" He asked, he looked concerned - like he didn't realize why she was acting so strangely.

"Ah, yeah," She said, and he turned his head a little to the side as he walked over towards her, until she could see the water droplets on his shoulders.

"Everything ok in D.C?" He asked her, very slowly putting his hand up on her cheek - still looking like he was waiting for her to throw him off, "Stephen ok?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Olivia replied, "He's just starting to get more cases than he can handle on his own - we knew we were going to have to hire people anyway. He's looking into a couple people."

"Oh," He said - for some reason he looked a little put off, "That's 'ok' then?"

"Yeah," She replied, turning her head and kissing the palm of his hand - then slipping her arms up around his neck, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He was getting a little more comfortable. She looked up at him, and knew that he wanted to lean down and kiss her - like really kiss her. None of that brushing his lips shyly onto hers, or keeping it quick and cautious. He dipped his head a little, and for a second she thought he was going to, but then he straightened up a little bit. She could tell that he was fighting himself - that he was scared, and the night before - and her inability to tell him that she loved him too wasn't helping him. She needed to step it up for him, and she wanted to. She had to make him feel safe, let him know that she wasn't going to hurt him - that she loved him. That she wasn't going to treat him like he was used to being treated.

"Kiss me?" She kept it light, careful not to sound demanding.

She hoped in giving him permission, he would let himself let go a little bit. That his new found little bit of confidence that he had in touching her, holding her, and having his hands – however gently – on her would transfer. She smiled as he leaned in and pressed his lips to her's, softly as per usual at first, then she started to move her lips against his. She played around with his lower lip, though kept it fairly innocent as she wanted him to deepen it. She wanted him to slip his tongue into her mouth, to explore, to claim her as his. She understood that this might still be a far off dream, but she pressed herself up against him a little bit. His arms constricted around her, and she felt his lungs fill up – then go almost flat in a sigh before he started kissing her back.

She felt his jaw lower in her hand that had slipped up onto the side of his face. His mouth formed around her lips, his mouth was open. She didn't even have time to register this right in her brain before she was very aware that he was running his tongue along her lip, patiently requesting that she open up for him. She folded without any sort of delay, and it was like a jolt behind her naval. Like his tongue carried a current, that he was now very tenderly teasing her tongue with. There was a little thud, and she paused – opening her eyes to realize that she had pushed him up against the wall. He was gazing down at her under his half closed eyelids. He smiled, even though his tongue was still in her mouth. That was all she needed before she let her eyes close again and go back to kissing him.

"It's a new day!" Cyrus called, and by the time she recognized the voice it was too late, he was coming up on the landing, "Let's get this show on the–"

Olivia jumped back from where she as pressed up against him on the wall as quickly as she had remembered her place. She was against the other wall of the hallway, facing Fitz within a millisecond, and Fitz was running his arm across his mouth – like he could still feel her lips on it. His tongue darted out briefly, and Olivia couldn't watch him anymore. She looked over at Cyrus, fully aware that her eyes were about as wide as they would go – terrified and waiting for his reaction. He still seemed speechless, and Fitz took a step away from the wall. Cyrus blinked, and Olivia assumed they hadn't disappeared because that was when Cyrus's face started to rebound.

"What the hell is going on up here?" He nearly shouted, but Olivia assumed that he was keeping his voice down because Campbell was probably downstairs, "You two playing house while the rest of us are trying to keep him out of prison?"

"Hey," Fitz spoke up, much to Olivia's surprise, "Liv's done the most out of anyone to make sure –"

"Yeah, and the mystery's solved as to why," Cyrus replied, and Olivia took a deep breath.

"Cyrus, c'mon," She said, and he raised his eye brows, "Calm down. This is why we brought Campbell in..."

"I should have known there was something fishy going on when you opted to use a puppet," Cyrus spat at her, then rounded on Fitz, "I should have expected this from you, fucking optimistic son of a bitch. Always looking for the silver lining, always. I should have suspected that you had something like this going on. But you, Liv? What the hell are you thinking? You know a hell of a lot better than this. I taught you better than this. If I had known that this would happen when I promised your father-"

"Cy," Fitz tried to stop him, "Cyrus. Take a damn breath."

"How long has this been going on?" He asked, his face turning a foreign color, "I thought I was calling in a professional - not just another sappy doe eyed girl with an eye for pretty boys-"

"The sky isn't falling, Cy," Fitz said about as assertive as she had heard him speak.

"Really?" Cyrus said, somewhat sarcastically, "Really? It's not the end of the world if the public finds out about this? That you're shacking up with the woman who was hired to come and clear your name? Within a month of your wife and children's brutal murders? How do you think they're going to take that?"

"Well it's not like I've been given the space to mourn the kids properly," Fitz said, "Right now I'm too busy trying figure out who the hell did. And the whole world knew that Mel and I were nothing more than roommates."

"I know that, we all know that," Cyrus said, "But outside of this house – no one knows that. No one's going to look at it that way."

"The public doesn't need to find out," Fitz said, "Not yet."

"Well if you two are planning on making out in public…"

"In my own house?" Fitz corrected him.

"They'll find out, they always do," Cyrus said, looking over at Olivia – that was rule number one in the fixing business, "And then how long will it be that the rumors start? That you got rid of your family yourself so that you could be with her? So that you could start over, frustrated with your life and wanting to just start over –"

"Cyrus, that's enough," Olivia could tell her voice had hit a weird, stern tone because both of them stopped in their tracks, "First thing's first – we need to clear out of this mess. We have to figure out how the hell we're going to get them off him on this. Then, whatever he and I are going to do is between us. I appreciate that you've been his handler thus far, but no matter how this case turns out – his political career is effectively over. He's not going to be a governor again, he's not going to hold any office. If anything, he's going to become the poster boy for crime control. A lobbyist for the wrongly accused, or an attorney, or something else – the speculation's going to be huge – if I'm right about what happened that night. We're not going to be able to prove anything about anyone."

"If you're right?" Cyrus repeated, his tone shifting almost entirely, "You think you know what happened?"

"I do," Olivia replied, ignoring the look Fitz was giving her – like she had been keeping it from him, "I'm just not ready to share – because if I'm wrong. I don't know what else could have happened."

"Well, you two get ready for the day then?" Cyrus said, then mumbled under his breath, "Don't make me send him out to the boathouse."

Olivia took a deep breath, and wanting to tell him then, that she loved him – but she knew it wasn't the right time. He turned around and walked into his bedroom without another word, shutting the door behind him. The door shutting sounded louder to her than she knew it really was. She then went off into her own room, where the sheets were still messed up, and she was sure the pillows still smelled like him. She took a deep breath, and pushed it down – off into the side while she got herself ready for the day and prepped herself mentally. By the time that she got downstairs Fitz and Cyrus were in the kitchen with Campbell, and Huck was sitting in his usual place on the couch – the screen of his computer reflecting onto his face.

"What've you got, Huck?" She asked as she walked over and sat down next to him, not exactly ready to face all the men that were standing around in the kitchen.

"I just got into the police's main frame," Huck said, not even bothering to look over at her as she sat, "And his file is – here."

All of the facts that they had, their timeline, their notes showed up on the screen. They had absolutely nothing, which was more and more obvious to her as she kept reading. She tapped Huck on the shoulder as she finished with the first screen, and he clicked over to the second. There was nothing. It was all circumstantial – and apparently the coroner was so inadequate that he couldn't even conclusively say what sort of blade was used in the attack. Any court – any judge – would throw the case out before even bothering to call in a jury.

"Huck…"

"They got nothing," Huck replied, and Olivia turned to him – even he understood that, "Why-?"

"What have you got on Duncan?" Olivia asked him, this news was starting to make her theory start to look a little less likely.

"I looked into him while my program was doing the heavy lifting," Huck replied, "He had a girlfriend."

"What?" Olivia tried to seem surprised.

"Yeah," Huck said, "I managed to hack into the security cameras in front of his shop – she kept herself covered…"

"Thank you, Huck," She said.

"Maybe I can zoom it in and look to see if there's another angle…"

"You don't have to do that, Huck," Olivia told him as she got herself up off the couch and headed into the kitchen, "Campbell."

"Yes, ma'am," He replied, and she took a deep breath.

"I want to thank you for your help, but I don't think we're going to be needing you," Olivia said, stopping in the middle of the room – and she watched the panic appear on both Cyrus and Fitz's faces, "Thanks for your cooperation. I'm sure Fitz will set you up on a plane as quickly as you like."

"Ah, sure," Fitz said, clearly having no idea where she was going with this – but deciding to trust her, because she was in work mode.

"Ah, ok," Campbell said, nodding over at Fitz, "I'm going to go pack up now."

"I'll have a car come and get you in about an hour," Fitz told him, pressing his phone to his ear as he headed into the formal living room.

"Have you completely lost your fucking mind?!" Cyrus's whole face was purple again.

"We're not going to court," Olivia told him, "The cops don't have a damn thing, and it's not smart to keep extra people around. I may have become a doe eyed girl for a pretty guy, but I'm still the same fixer. I'm smart – and I'm the best. You know it, and I know it. This is a hard case – but I've got it under control."

"Mind filling me in then, on what happened?" Cyrus said, and Olivia shook her head 'no'.

"I can't yet," She said, taking a deep breath, "Just trust me, ok?"

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you right now," Cyrus grumbled as his phone rang.

"James?"

"I'm not talking to you about this," Cyrus said angrily as he headed for the door to go back to the boathouse.

"Just remember, he's a reporter, Cy."

"He's not calling me as a reporter."

"No, probably not," Olivia said, "But it's still who he is."

The rest of the day went without major incident, but the rain meant that she was stuck inside without being able to wander around the yard to get her brain going. Her theory was about ninety percent formed. Mellie was a smart woman, no matter what her faults were, and how much she hated her, even if she was dead – she wasn't an idiot. Olivia's gut feeling was that Mellie had ordered the hit, on Fitz. But – she was too smart to think that she could pay the man without it being traced. If she wanted any chance to get away with it, she was going to have to be a little more clever than that. If Fitz was right thinking that she loved – or as close as to love as she was capable of – Paul, and she wanted to be with him she had to figure something out. As far as she was concerned Fitz had ruined their marriage when he failed to be president, so she was ready to get out. It wasn't a coincidence that this happened the night that Reston was sworn in. The rest of Olivia's theory was a little less set in stone, but she knew in her gut that Mellie was Duncan's 'girlfriend'. If she could convince him that Fitz had to go, then he would do it without even asking for payment. She just couldn't figure out the rest of it. How it had gone so wrong from there.

"Thinking again?" Fitz asked as he walked into the room where she was sitting on the couch – mulling it all over, it had gotten dark out –she wasn't even entirely sure what time it was, but she knew it was late.

"My indoor spot," She said, and he nodded as he sat down next to her, "This is still my case – if I'm not sharing something with you, it's because I'm not sharing it with anyone. The key to this business is information, and when it gets out is an art. If I'm wrong-"

"I doubt you are," He said, leaning back, "But I understand."

"Good," She said, looking over at him.

"You done for the night?" He asked, and she nodded slowly as she brought his arm around her shoulders, putting her head on his chest, "Is this a good idea?"

"Campbell's gone – Cyrus and Huck both know…."

"Alright," He said, as she leaned up and kissed the side of his head.

"That was one hell of a kiss earlier."

"It was," He agreed, carefully putting his other arm around her, and she snuggled into his side.

"Fitz," She said , and he turned his head so that he could hear her better, "Huck's looking into getting into contact with Duncan. Even if the police have no case, we're going to have to talk to him before we can even think about—"

"No," He said, instantly, "Don't talk to him. I don't want you anywhere near him, Livy."

"Fitz – it's about separating us and my job."

"Then why even mention it to me now?"

"Because-" Olivia broke off, "What you said last night…"

"I already told you not to worry about it, Livy."

"I'm not worried about it," She lied, trying to sound brave as he looked at her like he didn't believe her anyways, "Fitz. I – I love you, too."

As soon as she said it she could feel a weight just lifting right off of her shoulders. She looked up at him, she had been unable to look into his face when she had said it, but he looked a little taken a back when she was looking at him a few seconds later. He hadn't been expecting her to respond as she did, and she waited for him to let it sink in. She pulled her hand out from where she had wedged it between herself and his side, and ran it over him. She put it up on his chest, and ran her hand softly around his shoulder. She was about to lean up to kiss him, wanting to even if it was just a brief touch. Then, there was a crashing sound from the other living room, and Huck yelling.

"GET DOWN," Huck was yelling, which made them both jump up off the couch and go running for the other room, "Get the hell on the ground!"

"I don't mean harm," said another, deep male voice as they came in through the kitchen – there was a figuring kneeling before Huck by the front door – which had been kicked in, the window of it shattered, "Don't think I didn't come armed though, Huck."


	11. Feelings

A/N: Hello all, so this one's a little shorter, but I figure with how long the other one was, it evens out between the two chapters. Enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Ten: Feelings

Olivia reached over and flipped on the light, which she assumed had been off because Huck had been planning on getting some sleep - or whatever it was that he did. She looked over at the guy who was kneeling in front of him, who Huck was pointing the small, but very powerful hand gun he kept on his ankle directly at the center of his forehead. Huck adjusted his angle as the man stood up, and at this point Olivia thought she could have been able to identify him in the dark. Duncan. Who she had been studying with Huck for days. Huck's gun didn't seem to bother him much as he took a step towards her and Fitz. Until just then she hadn't realized that Fitz had his hand firmly around her wrist, she was to busy trying to keep an eye on Duncan when her view of him was partially blocked and she was staring at Fitz's back. She was trying to remember stepping behind him when Duncan let out a hollow, echoing laugh.

"What're you going to do, gov'na?"

There was a taunting cackle to his voice - and Olivia grabbed Fitz's arm before he could even take a full step towards Duncan. She had actually grabbed the bandaged arm, which she thought as an afterthought might help him get the hint. Duncan would and could destroy him if the urge struck him. And, if she was correct in her theory, he had already been prepared to do so once. Fitz fought her a little - like a reflex - and then stopped rather abruptly once he realized that she was trying to hold him back.

"Good plan, Mr. Governor - you should listen to her," He taunted, and Olivia's heart broke - she needed to get Fitz out of the room as soon as possible, "I didn't plan on coming here to hurt anyone. But, that could change. How's the arm, you poor bastard?"

"Enough," Olivia took a deep breath, trying to step out from behind Fitz.

She didn't blame him when he caught her arm, the anger she saw in his face, and how rigid his body had gone as soon as it was clear who it was. She understood. Huck hadn't eased up on the gun - which was still aimed right between Duncan's eyes, though he still didn't seem to care about it. She took a deep breath as Fitz pulled her back so that she was at least in line with him. Though, now they were both behind Huck who had put himself between the two of them and Duncan.

"What are you doing here?" Huck asked him again.

Olivia wanted to ask Fitz to go upstairs, there was no reason for him to have to be face to face with this guy. She wanted to shield him from this, she wanted to protect him. This was the man who killed his children, in their sleep. As she thought about it, it seemed that he was thinking along the same lines as she was. He went to go after Duncan again, but she grabbed both his arms and dug in her heels. Huck helped her out by putting himself in front of him a little better - but she couldn't trust him to keep him back. Though, he did stop him from getting any further across the room.

"I just came by to tell you all you can relax," He said, "You guys looking into me isn't going to do any of us any good. Stop looking into it. Sparky there's going to be fine as long as you two can keep him chained down until I leave. They're not going to find anything else, trust me."

"As good as your word is-" Olivia started.

"Wow, you really like your women ballsy, huh Grant?" He said, and Olivia hadn't let go of him, but she stroked his arm softly, "I saw you two through the window, good for you. Maybe this one won't be such a raging, cheating, sociopath. Though, sweetheart, you get bored of him, give me a call. I'll show you a real man."

"Tempting offer," Olivia replied coolly, "Bust since you're here, we have a few questions."

"I just told you, it's all taken care of," He said, "Don't worry, your boyfriend had nothing to do with it, and I never bothered to make it look like he did. The police have been wandering around in circles for weeks."

"That being said," Olivia went to step around the guys again, but Fitz slipped his arm back down around her waist, holding her there - he wasn't going to let her go anywhere, "We need to know what happened."

"You don't."

"We - "

"You don't want to know," He said, this time looking at Fitz specifically.

The room went quiet, and all of them looked over at Fitz. She was just about a hundred percent sure she didn't want him to hear the answers to her questions. This was the part where their relationship was going to be an issue. Professionally, she understood that it would probably be best if he heard everything right from the source, that he would be able to get any and all of his own questions answered. That he might be able to move on easier, start to recover a little bit faster if there weren't questions left unanswered, if he had everything he needed. The girlfriend - if that was what you would call it- side of her wanted to send him upstairs, send him out to Cyrus. She didn't want him to be in any more pain - no more misery. The risk of something this guy said upsetting him worse, rather than helping him was way too high for her liking. She would much rather take the bullet, and filter it out for him later.

"Fitz," She said, breaking the silence was like smashing a pane of glass on the floor, "Why don't you go and get Cyrus..."

"Liv..."

He had that look in his eye, looking at her, and she had to push all her feelings aside. All the thoughts of 'this is a man that I love, I don't want him to be upset' especially when he as just starting to function again back down into the farthest portion of her mind. She had to shut it off, what they had just been on the couch. He was 'the client' now, and she wouldn't even have a second thought about any other client sticking around if they wanted to. Though, she didn't know actually what she would do in this situation without her feelings getting in the way. Fitz wasn't really made of the toughest of things, especially in this situation - but anyone would. Wouldn't she have realized that he was a little more sensitive than the average guy on the street? Or wouldn't she have? Is that helpful, or was that going to hurt in the long run? But then again, her first instinct was to make him leave, and wasn't she only rethinking herself because he was giving her a look that she only recognized because of their relationship. And, if she told him he had to go, and was later rehashing it to him, then she was the messenger. She, as someone who loved him and liked him loving her, didn't want to be the messenger. She pretended to try and leave his arm, and he dropped it. She -

"I haven't got all night," Duncan interjected.

She was going to make a mistake.

"Liv," Huck said, looking over his shoulder at her, "It's up to you, whether he stays or he goes - but-"

He didn't want Duncan there any more than Fitz did. They both wanted him out as quickly as possible.

"You sit in the chair, and keep your mouth shut," Olivia told him, and he nodded - that way she could pretend for the time being that he wasn't there, or at least try, "If you have any questions at the end, you can ask them then. Duncan, take a seat."

"Wow, you really did your research," He looked over at Huck as he took a seat on the opposite chair, while her and Huck sat on the couch, "But I go by Folden now, you should probably remember that."

She put her back to Fitz - even though it was the last thing that she wanted to do. Huck was still very prominently keeping himself between her and Duncan - which she was very thankful for. The gun was in his hand, up on the arm rest, but still very obviously pointed at Duncan. She wasn't sure that she would be able to keep it together as easily as Duncan was making it look if Huck had the gun pointed at her. She took a deep breath, Duncan was looking at her like 'you said you had questions?' but she needed a second to collect herself. Just to push the fact that this was Fitz's family they were going to be talking about, she had to be able to come at this from a scientific, professional angle. She glanced over her shoulder - debating on giving Fitz the same tip, but he seemed to be doing the same anyways. She looked back at Duncan, knowing that that was the last time and probably at least an hour or two that she could even let herself look back at him. The second she did, her professionalism would be gone. She cared too much.

"When did you and Mellie start seeing each other?"

"September," He replied, Olivia figured - that was when it was clear that there was no way Fitz was going to win the election, "We had been talking a little bit before that. After he lost things really picked up. She showed up on my doorstep the night he lost, that was the first time I fucked her..."

Fitz chuckled a little behind her.

"I thought she was with Paul," Fitz said, but she couldn't turn around - not now.

"You know, I knew she was a liar - but I didn't realize that something was really screwy until you announced you knew about him."

"Ok," Olivia said, taking a deep breath, and she was about to ask her next question when Duncan just took a breath.

"You just want to know everything, don't you," He said, and Olivia nodded, he sighed, "Ok, I see this is the only way I'm getting out of here. We were fucking for a couple months, and then she told me she loved me. I was a big enough fool to think that she wasn't bullshitting me. She told me that since you lost, you hadn't even said a word to her - that you were too concerned with being depressed about losing the election."

"I was taking care of the kids, while she juggled you and Paul," Fitz said, and Duncan nodded.

"It was her that was obsessed with the fact that you lost," Duncan gave him a little smirk, "Within about a week she was hinting that she wanted me to be the one. That she wanted to get out of the relationship with you so she could run off with me. But, she cared too much - which is when she told me she knew who I really was. She asked me to kill you. Though, she was counting on the idea that you would try and protect her, like you were with this little thing. Ironic that you didn't. She unlocked the back door for me, and shut off the security cameras so that I could get away easy."

"She set this up?" Olivia already knew this, but she wanted a confirmation.

"Of course, so she could get away from you too, and run off with Paul," Fitz said, and Olivia held up a hand.

"Fitz, be quiet," She said, "I told you you could stay as long as you didn't interrupt."

"Anyways," Duncan continued, "We set it up together, planned it out down to the minute that something as going to happen. She gave me a layout of the house, told me everything I needed to know so there wouldn't be any surprises. But then, there was quite the surprise when I walked into your bedroom, and found her all snuggled up to your back, naked. Now, I was under the impression that no matter how much of a liar she was - we were exclusive. Which, apparently we really weren't at all. I assumed if she was lying to me this much, she was lying to you, too. I killed her, without really being able to keep my head clear and you were awake - but pretending to be asleep. I slashed your arm."

He was looking to Fitz, and Olivia knew that he wouldn't say anything. If this was going to work, both sides were going to have to share. She and Fitz realized that Mellie had been her own downfall. She had gotten greedy, all that playing God had gone to her head. She had fucked up, literally. She took a deep breath as she realized that he wasn't going to go on until Fitz said something, but he wasn't going to until she told him he had to. Any sort of badass tendencies or feelings that she could be the job in that moment were about to go out the window, but she sensed that it would be ok. She turned her head slowly, giving Fitz, who was sitting there all rumpled and already a little upset looking and she nodded at him. He knew what she meant, and took a deep breath, agreeing to it without even a word or a look of any sort of protest.

"That had been her idea," Fitz said, and Duncan nodded, "She - ah threatened to...She made it so that I didn't really have a choice. She said she'd leave, and take the kids. Which, apparently she did anyway."

"The only compliment that I ever heard her give you was that you were good in the sack, when you were properly motivated," Duncan said rolling his eyes, and it made sense, she thought he was going to be dead by morning.

"What about the kids?" Olivia said, all the other blanks she could fill in, "Fitz do you want to..."

"I want to know what happened to them," Fitz said, and Duncan took a deep breath - Huck cocked the gun, finally Duncan was starting to look weary of it.

"I got out into the hallway, and I could hear you on the phone with the cops," Duncan said, and Olivia's heart sank, "And I knew that I only had a very small window to get out of the house. I didn't even have time to get out through the back door. So, I headed out towards the back of the house, where I could jump onto the porch roof without getting too badly injured. That's when I found the little girl's room, with the window open. I could see the porch roof from there, and I knew I could make it. But she woke up, and she saw my face."

He paused and Olivia was staring at him, willing him to not go into any more detail than that. He seemed to get the message.

"Then, the little boy came into the room," He said, understanding her look the second time just as easily, "I knew I had to make it look like a much more normal situation, so I put him back on his bed - and then I went out the window. That's all I know. But I don't want you looking into me anymore, so I wanted to come and tell you to call it off. I burned the handle of the knife that I used, then threw the blade off a cliff the next day - near the shop. No one's going to find it. My guess it's somewhere on the bottom of the Pacific, if nothing tried to eat it. No one's going to find it, and they're not going to find anything more convincing on Sparky because there isn't anything to find."

"Why're you just telling us this?"

"Because, I screwed up. I loved her, and had a relationship with her - which would be enough to track me on," He said, "If you tell the cops what you know about me - it's enough for me to become a witness. Which doesn't really mean all that much to me, because I'd be out of there faster than they could even turn around. The problem is, I'm pretty settled there on the boardwalk - and I don't want to have to leave, set up shop somewhere else. So, you don't say a damn thing about anything - and I won't come back for the three of you. I'll hunt you, and I'll save you for last, Grant. Your pretty little girlfriend there will go first, and you'll know it was me. It won't be quite as quick as a knife to the throat. Or we can just live, and let live - make your decision, I'll be watching until I know you've decided. Nice seeing you again, Huck."

Duncan shot a look over at Huck, who lowered his gun and he was gone before Olivia could really register what was going on. The door, which was half off it's hinges swung shut loudly behind him.


	12. Going Forward

A/N: Hello, everyone... let's move forward, shall we? Enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Eleven: Going Forward

They were all just sort of sitting there, not saying anything - letting what had just happened, and all that they had just been told set in. To Olivia, the silence that had fallen in the living room was deafening, the last noise - Duncan slamming the door behind himself was still echoing through her head. She sat there for a few more seconds, while Huck tucked his gun back away. Then, she got up and went into the kitchen, leaving both of the men sitting there in the living room in silence. She went straight over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine that she and Fitz had opened a couple of nights ago. She reached over to grab a glass from the cabinet. She poured herself a glass - of as much wine as she thought the glass would hold, then put the bottle back in the fridge. She paused as she closed the door, she dabbed at her eye - unsure when they had started to tear up. She took a deep breath and turned around, seeing that Fitz had followed her in - Huck was just rounding the corner from the living room. She downed most of the glass, then set it on the counter. Her throat burned a little bit.

"Huck," She said, taking a deep breath, "Gather everything we've gotten on him, you can drop it all off anonymously at he police station tomorrow morning. Knowing them, we should probably write out a little note explaining it all and how it fits together. Spell it out for them."

"No," Fitz said, almost before she finished her sentence, "No. We're not doing anything remotely - Through all that shit in the lake. Let's just be done with this."

"Fitz," Olivia furrowed her brow at him, "What the hell are you - we have to get justice for the kids. We can't just let him get away with this..."

"Huck, would you mind giving us the room?" Fitz asked, looking over at him, and he nodded as he backed out of the room.

"Fitz, what the hell are you thinking?" Olivia said, "This is what we wanted, we can put his ass behind bars - or at least make him pay a little bit for what he did-"

"Justice? Are you kidding me, Liv?" He said, in a tone she was sure hardly ever came out of his mouth, "We're doing exactly as this guy says. Justice? Justice would be Mellie behind bars - knowing exactly the hell she caused. But she's dead. You said it the other night, Duncan is a hit man, he's not who we're after - he was used, just like just about everyone else in the situation. This guy behind bars isn't going to bring Karen and Gerry back. Nothing is going to bring them back. They're gone. Karen and Gerry? My daughter, my little boy - they're gone. I'm never going to walk Karen down the aisle at her wedding, and I'm never going to get to see Gerry with a family of his own. It's done, Liv."

"Why don't you want to bring what we know to the police?" Olivia asked him, and his eyes expanded quickly.

"Did you hear what the fuck he said?" Fitz said, he seemed angry, "There is nothing that is going to bring them back. I'm getting to the point where I understand that now - I just sat face to face with the man who killed my family, Liv. He took - at the time - everything that I cared about away from me. And I couldn't do anything - as you very quietly pointed out because he would have killed me. We're letting this go."

"Fitz - "

"Liv, it's done - we lost," He said, taking a deep breath, "We're not going after this guy - you're having trouble thinking of me as the client? You have to, right now. Did you even hear him threatening you? No. Do not ask me to risk losing you, too. I won't do it."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he was gone before she actually got the chance to say anything. He took off out into the hall and she heard him going up the stairs. She ended up taking a deep breath instead, picking back up her glass and draining the rest of her wine. Huck came back into the room, and Olivia rolled her eyes.

"He's letting him go because of me," Olivia said, "He wants me to treat him like a client in this case, but he only wants it for me. He doesn't see the hypocrisy there?"

"I don't think he really cares," Huck replied, taking a deep breath, "I don't know why he asked me to leave - because I more than heard the whole thing. I have to say, I'm with him."

"You're with him?" Olivia asked, and Huck nodded.

"He's always been a bit of a straight shooter, if we leave him alone, he'll leave us alone," Huck said, "Besides, it would be too suspicious for him if we all just died. He'd have to leave anyway. Duncan won't do anything if he doesn't feel like he has to...but of course, you're the boss."

"We're dropping it," Olivia said, and Huck nodded, "Let Cyrus know what you think we can tell him. Get rid of everything, however you think is best. But wait until the morning, give him a chance to change his mind."

"Ok," Huck replied, "It might be a mission of good faith to give Cyrus as little information as possible."

"All right," Olivia said, setting her glass into the sink, "That's why you're on it. Then in the morning we can start to think about what we're going to tell the media when the police drop the case - they'll be doing that soon."

Huck just nodded, and headed out the back door - they would get rid of all the files the next morning. Now that she had a minute to realize it, she was exhausted. She had been so damn tired - almost to the point of falling asleep on Fitz - before Duncan had decided to nearly bust the door down. Now, it was nearing one in the morning and she had been up since seven. Her day could not have been more complete with stress if her mother had shown up to visit with Clara. She would have had to send them to the nearest hotel, because there was clearly no room for anything extra for her. She decided as she was climbing the stairs that tomorrow would be a late day, as now they were just going to be waiting for the police to call off the investigation. Stepping into her room, she was a little disappointed to find that Fitz wasn't already there - she had half been expecting him to already be in bed. She looked down the hall and saw that the door to his own bedroom was very firmly shut.

She changed into her usual sleeping attire, and climbed into bed. All the while, she was thinking about the two little sleeping pills that were left from Huck giving them to her while they were in D.C. She had to assume that he didn't have any on him. So, while it was very tempting to her to go over and take one so that she could sleep without worrying about what was going on in Fitz's head, she didn't. Instead, she laid there in bed staring up at her ceiling - completely ready to pass out, but too worried about Fitz to do anything about it. She thought a couple times about going to find him, see if he was being upset about Duncan, or the conversation they had had in the kitchen. She knew it was probably a mixture of both - but she didn't want him getting any madder at her than he was. So, she laid there. She had one eye watching the clock, watching the hours tick by - until it was almost four in the morning. Her stomach tying up in more knots by the second as all sorts of scenarios ran through her head. Had she finally let herself love someone only for it to be Fitz - and for him to get mad and stop loving her back? She turned over and over again - just wanting to get to sleep.

A little bit of sleep, was that so much to ask for? She was about to just give up and go and get herself a sleeping pill - maybe just take a little bit of it. She was sure that if she could just get to sleep in the first place, she would be out cold for as long as it took afterwards. However, just as she was getting herself ready to get up out of bed, and deal with the cool air outside of her covers the door opened up. As the ray of light filled the hall, she spotted Fitz walking into the room in a near zombie like state. She went onto her back to watch him as he walked around the end of the bed and got in without a word on 'his' side. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn't as he just slid right into bed with her and took her up almost possessively - or as possessive as she had seen and felt him do anything. She was right up in his arms, and he nuzzled his face into her shoulder. He turned his head and kissed the side of her neck as he pulled her just a little bit closer to him - his toes were like ice on her shins - but she didn't care as he put a leg around her. She ducked her head and nuzzled her face into his chest - his shirt was cool on her face.

"Liv," He whispered as he brushed his lips over her ear.

"Don't," She replied, "Let's just go to sleep, ok?"

"Can I just say one thing?"

"Go ahead."

"I'm sorry I acted a little like that," He told her, and to her surprise leaned in through the darkness and kissed her softly, "You were just going to do what you thought was best, but I - I don't know how, but I'm still breathing right now, I still see something coming and I can see a little slim opening for my life to continue. I'm a little bit of an optimist - Cy says it's why I lost the election, but I don't really care. I see myself getting a little bit better, every day. But if something ever happened to you - I just don't think I would be able to survive something like this happening again."

His voice cracked a little at the end, so she put her arm up around his neck and lost her own hand in the back of his curly hair. That's how she eventually fell asleep, holding him there in her arms while he held her - tight. There was just something in the way that he was holding her, how strong his arms were - the way he had stepped in front of her earlier, been ready to protect her. Even if Duncan would have just killed him and thrown him to the side to get to her if he needed to. She never really saw herself as a woman who needed protecting, which is why Fitz's currently cautious disposition never bothered her. Though, there was something nice about being held at night that made her realize that she needed to get him out of the fog that he was in. She wanted to get him back up to normal standards. She woke up late the next morning, it was almost noon - but no one had bothered them, and Fitz was awake, he had been watching her sleep.

"Good morning," She stretched, and he leaned in and kissed her very quickly, very shyly - which was when she realized that he was dressed, and his hair was combed - and he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower, "You were already up."

"The police station called a couple hours ago," He said, taking a deep breath, "They wanted to let me know that the bodies are going to be released, and needed a funeral home to contact them. That, and that they were closing the case, they sounded a little apologetic even. So while I was up, I called around to see who could do services the beginning of the week next week. It's been two weeks, so I'm having them all cremated. Then, I called Paul to let him know - told him he can do what he wants with Mellie's remains. But the kids's ashes are being buried in my family plot. Mellie can be buried there if he thinks he wants that. We talked about it, and we think it would be what she wanted. Though I don't know why I care what the fuck she wanted because this whole fucking thing is her fault."

"Easy, Fitz," Olivia said, sitting up running her hand over his shoulders, "Did you tell Paul that?"

"No, of course not," Fitz replied, "He'll think she was a saint until the day he dies and finds she's not in heaven with him. I left it up to him, he thought she'd want everyone to think - even if everyone knew about her and Paul - that she was still a doting mother who loved her kids."

"Makes sense," Olivia said, and Fitz nodded.

"But if I want to be buried with the kids..."

He didn't even have to finish the sentence, and Olivia knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Well, maybe we can figure something out," She told him, tucking one of his many curls behind his ear.

"How do you not let someone get buried..."

"Are her parents still alive?" Olivia asked, carefully.

"No, they and her sister died in a car accident a couple years ago."

"Her sister?"

"Yeah, they did everything together," Fitz replied, then took a breath, "If it's at all possible she was worse than Mellie."

"Well why don't we bury her with them?" Olivia asked, and Fitz looked over at her, "We can say it was in her will that she wanted to be buried with her sister. She wouldn't have known the kids were going to die so soon..."

"That's... perfect," Fitz said, and Olivia nodded.

"That's what I do," Olivia replied, leaning in and kissing his cheek, "Anything else?"

"I have to go down to the house in Santa Barbara," He breathed, "Get a couple of things, one of each of the kids' favorite toys for the funeral home."

"Want me to come with you?" She asked, and he nodded - she could tell that he was working very hard to keep it all in.

"Paul said he'd meet me there so he could get a couple of things of Mellie's," Fitz said, and Olivia nodded as she put an arm around his shoulders, "I told him I didn't want to do her side of the stuff. Does that make me..."

"Fitz, as long as you made sure her body wasn't in a ditch somewhere - anything above that is worthy of sainthood," Olivia told him, and he nodded, "Just wait for me to get ready, ok?"

"Ok," He said somberly, kissing her cheek as she got up off the bed and headed for her suitcase, "It's my fault, you know."

"Fitz - how the hell do you figure that?" She asked, pausing and looking back at him.

"I didn't love her. I never did - I don't think I even told her I did ever," He said, "If I even cared about her, I would have left her once I found out about Paul. Then this wouldn't have happened."

"Or it would have happened sooner - before Campbell could draw up the papers."

"Or if I hadn't frozen, when he showed up," Fitz said, "If I had done something to stop him from killing Mellie."

"Fitz - Hindsight is twenty-twenty," Olivia said sat back down on the bed to try and comfort him, "There's no way you could have known..."

"Or if I had done something more than just calling the cops - if I had gone after him with the baseball bat..."

"He would have killed you - and then he would have gotten to the kids anyway."

"What if I had..."

"Fitz," She put hand on either side of his face, holding it so that he was looking right at her, "Look at me. You can go through all these 'what if's until you're blue in the face - but it's not going to change anything. You did what you thought of in the time, and if you had done anything differently Cyrus would probably be burying all of you without any consideration for the faulty family dynamics. But the fact is, you didn't die that night."

"I know," He said, and she leaned in and kissed him quickly.

"So ease up," Olivia told him, "This was not your fault."

"It still feels like it was," Fitz replied, "There's so much I should have done..."

She saw no point in trying to convince him again so quickly - she would have to think about it. She kissed the side of his head, and he leaned into it slightly.

"I'm going to go take a shower," Olivia said, and he nodded as she let go of him and headed for the bathroom.

She walked down the stairs to the living room, and was headed into the kitchen about an hour later. She saw Huck and Fitz in the living room with Huck's computer - piling up everything. There was a pretty safe bet that it was to destroy everything that they had on Duncan, which probably explained why Cyrus was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. She poured herself some coffee from the pot - that apparently had just finished being made, then decided that she would pour Cy a cup too. As a little act of good faith, that she slipped in front of him before sitting down across from him.

"I can't believe you're just going to let them..."

"It's Fitz's choice," She replied, sipping her coffee, and Cyrus slammed his fist down on the table - loud enough for Huck and Fitz to look over from the living room.

She shook her head, telling them to ignore it - they did.

"Like hell it is," Cyrus spat.

"The cops are dropping the case. So, so are we," Olivia said, "He wants it to be over. I can't really say that I blame him."

"We were close - we can't just give up now," Cyrus whined, in that unique way where it was still threatening enough to chill her bones, "What happened to you? When have you ever been one to let the bad guy just go? We know this was Duncan, we know that Mellie ordered the hit on Fitz. We work from there. If you're going to abandon your professionalism, why not do it for your guy? If you talked to him..."

"Cyrus," Olivia said, shaking her head - she didn't particularly want to get into this with him.

"This is ridiculous, this isn't you," Cyrus grumbled, "This is his career, Liv. The whispers aren't going to stop. His name will be dirt by the end of the week. They might feel a little bad for him until everyone's in the ground, but then he'll be the same level as OJ Simpson."

"And how were we going to stop that from happening anyways?" Olivia took a deep breath, "Besides, they didn't even have enough evidence to call him in for trial. We'll ask the Police for a public apology when they announce that they're closing the immediate investigation. It'll be far better than if we pulled them up for slander. Which we can make evident to them. That can be your job."

"Liv, are you ready to go?" Fitz asked her somewhat somberly as he walked into the kitchen doorway - Huck was headed out to the backyard.

"Yeah," She said, standing up as she looked over at Huck.

"The paper files I'm going to burn," He said, and Fitz looked over at him.

"There's a fire pit in back," Fitz said, "By the lake."

"Is there a boat?"

"There's a kayak," Fitz told him, "We keep the boat in storage during the winter."

"I'm going to dump the computer in the lake, spread it out," Huck said, and Olivia nodded.

It was another act of good faith, if Duncan was watching them like he said that he was he would appreciate it. At least then he would know they didn't even have the search history on him. She took a deep breath as Cyrus rolled his eyes - clearly not about to join any sort of happiness about this party. She looked over at him, and he was grumbling as he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and headed for the front door.

"Cy, where are you going?" Olivia called after him.

"The police station," He called - clearly upset - over his shoulder, "Because I'm clearly the only one in this house that hasn't completely lost their mind."


	13. For Today

A/N: Well, this only took forever, huh guys? Enjoy it :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Twelve: For Today

Olivia sat in the car just outside the cemetery, the car was parked on the edge of the street while Fitz, Cy, and everyone else who had shown up for the funeral. She could see the back of Paul's head even in the crowd of Fitz's Aunts, Uncles, his brother, and all their kids, and some people that she assumed were family friends. The heart breakers were the kids, from Karen and Gerry's school that had showed up to say good bye. They were doing the service together, but then Mellie's ashes would be laid to rest on the other side of the yard - with her sister. Paul had thought that was fitting, and it seemed to be a little relieving to Fitz. She looked out of the window, wishing that she could have gone into the church, and that she could be standing out there with him. She had known that this was a possibility - that the press would swarm the church for the funeral, and the cemetery for the burial. It's why they had gotten a car with such tinted windows, so that the press wouldn't realize that she was there. Even going out and standing in the back was dangerous. Because, if and when they came out as a couple, the last thing that they needed was footage surfacing with her at the funeral and cemetery. Besides that fact, it was probably best not to introduce her to the family at the funeral of his wife and children.

So, she sat there, waiting for the pastor to finish speaking. She sat there, trying not to think about the world of pain that he would be in, that he had been in when he got in the car from the church. He had slipped right into car, shutting the door carefully behind himself and taking her right up into his arms. There had been tears streaming down his face, which had very quickly turned into her mission to stem up a little bit before he got out at the cemetery. She held him there, in the back seat for a little while - Huck was playing driver. As he was pulling up the curb, she tried to calm him down. She wiped the tears out of his eyes, and he took a deep breath. This was hell for him, and she knew it. It seemed sort of cruel that she had been able to be right there with him - at least after the initial incident - through this whole thing, but just couldn't be out there now. She took a deep breath - not even wanting to think about what would happen when she told him that she had to go back to D.C. She didn't want to leave him behind, but what choice did she have?

She snapped out of her thoughts as she spotted Fitz turning around and walking back towards the car. The crowd was breaking up, and it wasn't like they were holding any sort of gathering after the services. They had put the word out that he didn't want to – which made sense on all levels. When she had asked him if he'd want to, he had replied that he didn't think he could handle it. Which, of course, was understood by all. The police detectives' very public apology to him – thanks be to Cyrus – had worked wonders. The letters of support, and the media's love for him had skyrocketed. Literally, they had a whole pile of mail, and very long apologies from newspapers and gossip rags even.

Fitz slipped back into the car – avoiding the camera as he slid into the seat next to her. He was oddly stoic compared to what he had been like before, when they were leaving the funeral. She scooted over to be closer to him, so she would be right there to comfort him if need be. He pulled her over closer to himself, she was half sitting on his lap, and his arms were wrapped tight around her – his forehead on her shoulder, eyes closed. He needed a break, he needed for it to be quiet, to not have to deal with anything. Including the media. He needed a time out.

"Fitz," She said softly, running her hand through his hair, trying to be soothing as Huck pulled away from the curb.

"Mm," He mumbled a little as her hand went in again, and he dodged it.

She took the hint and just let him veg out for the rest of the ride back to the lake house – where he was planning on living. He was quiet, but he held her just about as close as possible as Huck drove them back to the house. Every time she was about to shift off his lap, with the feeling that he didn't want her there, he just held onto her a little bit harder. So, given his overall attitude – she probably should have not been surprised that once they got to the house he disappeared. She went into the house to help Huck bring stuff to the car so he could get to his flight on time without any problems.

Once Huck was gone, she had realized that she hadn't heard a peep from Fitz, so she went out into the backyard to find him. She was about ninety-nine percent sure that he was out there, because she hadn't heard him come into the house, but it took her a couple minutes to locate him outside. She did a few laps quietly before she started to call him, and then there he was. He didn't respond, he was just louder. She walked around the side of the large shed by the boat house, and there he was. He had set up an automatic tennis server against the back of the house, and he was hitting the balls just about as hard as he could back at the wall.

"Fitz."

"What?" He asked, hitting the tennis ball that was coming at him like it was attacking him – and it was so loud that it was like a gunshot hitting the shingles.

"Fitz," She said, walking over and shutting off the machine, "What're you doing?"

"Nothing."

"You want me to join you?"

"No."

"You want me to leave you alone then?"

"No, stay – please."

"Do you want me to go find something to eat? Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Fitz – What do you want?"

"I can't-" He cut himself off with a deep breath, chucking his racket into the woods.  
She started walking towards him slowly, so that she would have ample time to recognize any sort of body language from him that would tell her to stop. There was no such thing, in fact he stumbled forwards just a little bit and pulled her into his arms, again like she was some sort of teddy bear. She didn't really mind as she glanced up and realized that he had his nose in the top of her hair. His eyes were closed – and he looked, just a little bit at peace. She let him stand there, she let him hold her as she reached up and put her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his chest just enough so that she could feel him start to relax.

"I can't stop thinking about it," He whispered his confession.

"Fitz..."

"I can't – if I had just – it's my fault," He said, taking another breath – it rattled pretty impressively, "That night, I can't – if I had just... done something. Anything..."

She pulled away a little, having to go against his strength a little bit, but he loosened up just enough so that she could look up at him. He had so much pain in his face, but she could see in his eyes him begging, pleading her not to walk away and just leave him there. He needed her, and she knew it. She took a deep breath, Stephen could last the rest of the week in D.C. by himself, especially now that Huck would be there to help him. She would just approve the resume that Stephen had sent her, a guy by the name of Harrison Wright, who she had defended in court a couple years ago. She would be able to trust him, perfectly – it made it much easier to say yes, and he would be perfect for the job. She'd fly back Friday, and until then, she would stay there with Fitz. But his eyes hadn't been telling her quite that much – just that he wanted her to stay in his arms, right then. That he needed her more than he needed to destroy the side of the shed. She looked around, they were hardly covered. Sure, the house was big, and they were blocked by it and the shed – but the media was creative when they needed a photo. And, Fitz hadn't – understandably – been all that giving at the cemetery.

"C'mon, come in the house with me," She said, and he nodded, as he slipped his arm around her waist and started heading towards the house with her, "I'll make us some dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"I understand that," She said, as they walked into the kitchen, and he didn't let go of her. "But you haven't eaten anything in like three days, so what do you want? What's your favorite?"

"Livy..."

"I'm not going to stop asking."

"Usually a Sheppard's pie, or a burger," His voice was low, like he hardly cared that he was speaking.

"I'll see what I can do," She told him, and he leaned in and kissed her briefly, just barely a brush, an apparent apology for sounding so apathetic about it.

"Thank you," He whispered, and the look in his eyes was telling her that he was sorry, that he understood that she was just trying to take care of him.

She walked out of his arm, over to the cabinet, and then the fridge to see what they had as far as food. It was fairly clear rather quickly that it would be the Sheppard's Pie, just because of the ingredients that were on hand in the house. She turned back from the fridge to get a pot out to boil the potatoes, and Fitz had followed her over from the other side of the island. He then proceeded to hover the entire time that she was cooking. He came up behind her and pressed her lightly into the counter while she was peeling potatoes, which she had to admit was a little bit of a turn on. Then, it started to get a little old, as he continued to just follow her around the kitchen as she tried to get everything together. It was cute, and she understood that he just wanted to be close to her – it just got difficult to move at certain junctures.

After dinner she took a breath. Because he volunteered to do up the dishes and clean up, noticing that she seemed a little off She went into the living room and curled up on the couch, actually happy to have a little bit of time for herself. She understood that Fitz knew she would be leaving soon, and she understood that he wanted to spend time with her, and that particularly today – he was sad. He needed her to be around and he was going through something that she couldn't even imagine happening. She pulled a blanket up over herself, turning on the TV and finding some mind numbing movie so that she could relax a little bit. She took a deep breath as Fitz walked into the room within ten minutes – and he sat down next to her, putting his head down on her lap.

She couldn't understand what was going on. Was this just something that was showing up today? Or was he always this clingy? Had she just not noticed because of the craziness – the fact that they simply had to act differently during the day. Now she thought about it, whenever they could be – wasn't he always sort of hanging around? She tried to keep in mind the day, it wasn't a coincidence that she was noticing it just after they buried his family – for today, he had a pass.

"Livy," He said, rolling onto his back and looking up at her.

"Mhmm?" She asked, brushing his hair to the side a little bit – his curls were getting long – he needed a haircut, but this was not the time to mention it to him.

"Thanks, for everything," He breathed, and she nodded as she continued to stroke the side of his face as his eyes started to close.

"Are you ok, Fitz?"

"I will be," He whispered, his eyes peaking open, looking up at her – even he was not entirely convinced by what he had said.

"I love you," She told him, as rested her hand in the side of his hair - he closed his eyes, swallowed, and relaxed a little bit.

For first time that day, the first time that week, he looked peaceful and there was a little bit of silence. She wasn't about to have to comfort him, or talk him out of feeling responsible for something he very clearly had absolutely no control over. She leaned over and kissed his forehead lightly, taking a deep breath as she leaned back, relaxing a little bit herself. It wasn't until then that she realized just how stressed out she was herself. She had spent every waking minute from the time that she got there under pressure. Pressure to keep him out of jail, pressure to not fall in love with him, pressure because she had fallen in love with him – how could she have not have? Pressure to keep him from having a mental break down while they got ready for the funerals. But now, all that was over, and she could feel her shoulders – where she carried everything – like they were about to deteriorate to the point where she wouldn't be able to move.

"I have to go back to D.C. on Friday," She told him.

She watched is chest fall, like she had physically harmed him, and knocked the wind right out of him when she did. She took a deep breath – she had known that this – the one minute of the day that he had finally just relaxed – and now she was giving him a sucker punch. He had to know that she was going to have to leave, right? It wasn't like she could just pick up and leave a business she had just started to be there in California with him. It wasn't her – and it just wasn't going to happen. She took a deep breath, and then went to stroke the side of his face as he started to recollect the air that had been stolen from his lungs.

"Don't go," He said, slowly – like he didn't even want to be saying it himself, then said more firmly, "Stay."

He opened his eyes and looked up at her, his blue eyes looked terrified – more scared than she had seen him as yet. He turned onto his side and put his arms around her, still looking up at her as if she were his entire world. If she let him do that for any more than a few more seconds she would have no choice.

"Fitz, I have to go back," She said, taking a deep breath, "I can't just stay here. I have people in D.C. who need me. Clara and my mom – they need me to be working. Clara needs to go to school – and focus on school. She's had enough people not being able to take care of her. Stephen's been holding down the fort, but there's only so much longer he can do that…"

"I know," He said, his voice low – like he didn't really want to admit it, "It's selfish but, I want to keep you here. But what happens then – when you go back?"

"We'll see each other when we can?"

"And you're ok with that?"

"I'm going to have to be, right?"

"Right," He said, a little sadly, and she took a deep breath.

She couldn't –

"Fitz – I wish it were different," She told him, and he nodded as she slouched down and rearranged so that she was lying with him – partially on top of him so that they would fit, "It's not like there's anyone like you waiting for me back there."

"And there isn't going to be?" He asked, and she took a deep breath.

"I love you, why would I waste my time with anyone else?" Olivia told him, kissing his cheek, "I couldn't. I love you, that's it."

He nuzzled his face into the side of her head, trying to get a little bit closer to her. She could feel his arms snaking around her, holding her tight as he leaned in and kissed her softly, slowly. A promise.

"Looks like I'll be flying out to see you," He said, and she smiled, "A lot."

"I work crazy hours," She said, "If you came out-"

"I'm easy, stick me in the corner," He replied, and she smiled.

"Ok, I'm going to have to hold you to that."

"I love you," He told her simply, "No amount of miles between us is going to change that. I – I never want to settle for anyone less than you again."

She snuggled herself up into a ball against him in his arms, and he held her. Something that he had absolutely no qualms doing at this point, he hadn't tried to take it any further, but she hardly expected that. He had just recently stopped shaking when he reached out to touch her, stopped pausing for almost a full second to make sure it was ok before he put his arms around her. He was in a delicate situation, which was why she hadn't tried to push him away while she was making dinner – she knew that that would be below the belt. He needed her, and she knew that making herself unavailable to him – especially today, tonight, this week – would be unforgivable. Well, he would probably forgive her – but she wouldn't forgive herself, and he would be sent back to who knew what. Would he be the shell that she had found? Or would he be worse? He wasn't ready for anything like that, and even when it got to a point where she felt like she could, she was going to have to be very careful.

"Livy," He whispered, leaning down and kissing her forehead without a second thought, up on his side and snuggling her between himself and the back of the couch, "Stay the weekend with me, here. I'll put you on a plane first thing Monday morning. One more weekend, no work. No more case, no more anything. Just us."

He was working hard to keep it together, she knew him enough to know that. He was panicking, and he wanted her there with him just a little while longer. She wasn't entirely sure what one more weekend would accomplish, but he made it sound so damn tempting. It wasn't like she wanted to run off and leave him there – that was the exact opposite of what she wanted, actually. She was about to tell him that she really had to go, that Stephen needed her and was flipping out before his already sexy sad eyes were full blown 'I will literally fall apart without you here' eyes, which she knew were coming – but she didn't get the chance. He kissed her. He was kissing her, deeply. She could feel his hand on the back of her neck, keeping a distance between her and the back of the couch so that she wasn't pressed up against it. Her whole body melting slowly until she was sure that she couldn't move – even if she had wanted to.

"I'll drive you to the airport Monday morning."

"Ok."


	14. Double Edged Sword

A/N: Because this took so damn long (Sorry, sorry, so sorry) I threw you guys a bone at the beginning of the chapter... hope you all enjoy :) and thanks for sticking around to read this :) And it's a little short, but - I have to get back into the swing of this one … love :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Thirteen: Double Edged Sword

Olivia took a deep breath as she headed down the stairs. It was Sunday evening, and it had been Saturday night before Fitz started to seem to be at least the shadow of the man she imagined he once was, or could be – almost back to what she understood and had seen as normal for him. They had woken up that morning to snow falling, which she was pretty sure was never supposed to happen in California, but neither of them really questioned it. The lake house was in a fairly northern section of California, but she still thought in the back of her head that 'it's not supposed to snow in Cali'. They rolled out of bed, and she decided very quickly for them that they were going out for the day. She got him to bundle up like a kid, and – while she was sure there were probably sleds in the garage – they went out and bought sleds. Like kids. She found some random hill that she knew he probably hadn't taken the kids to, and they went sledding. And for about three hours, as they slid down the hill on plastic saucers, and made a snowman – he seemed, happy.

When they got back to the house, they left the sleds in the back of the car – because what did they care? And they went, completely soaked from the snow, on a walk through the woods near the house. He showed her trails, and while she was sure they had some sentimental value to him, he didn't tear up. It was like he was willing to make her last full day there with him a happy one. They had gotten back late, and she was so cold that she demanded to take a shower before they snuggled up on the couch, which he chuckled at charmingly, but sent her right up. She assumed that he had gone and taken a quick shower to get the snow off too – but that didn't seem to be the case as she hit the bottom of the stairs, and he was standing, a little bit cleaned up – but hair still frozen to his head – having changed into dryer clothes starting a fire in the fire place.

"Fitz, aren't you cold?" She asked, she was frozen just looking at him, and he chuckled.

"A little," He admitted as he pulled his face away from the fire, and stood up – DAMN, was he always that sexy? "But I happen to have a beautiful woman I was hoping wouldn't mind heating me up by the fire, with – to complete our 'kid day' – hot cocoa."

He showed her that he had a tray of hot cocoa waiting for them on the coffee table, a really comfortable looking afghan thrown over some pillows. She smiled mischievously as she half sauntered over to the little nest that he had made them on the couch, and instantly took up both of their slots. He gave her a fake shocked look, then just smiled as he watched her snuggle in amongst the pillows, fire flickering as she reached up and grabbed her cocoa. She pulled her feet up on the couch with her, and brought the cocoa right to her chest, using it for a little bit of extra heat.

"No room for me?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Mmmm," She appeared thoughtful for a minute, "You're going to make me all cold again."

"Nuh-uh," He lied, going over and picking her right up in both arms – without even a second thought, afghan, hot cocoa and all, "Just for a minute."

"I love you," she told him, reaching up and running a couple fingers through his still snow-drenched hair, before he sat down, "But if you sit me down on your cold ass lap..."

"I have a solution, put down your cocoa," He said, and she pouted at him.

"Well first of all, I can't reach the coffee table..."

"You're lucky you're tiny," He said, as he leaned down so that she could easily reach.

"Second, I don't want to put down my cocoa," She continued defiantly, and he laughed a little as she put it down anyways.

"You can have it back in two seconds, I promise," He said, and she felt something soft brush against the sensitive skin just behind her ear – did he just - , "Here."

He very carefully wrapped her up, while still holding her up, in the blanket so there was a double layer over her ass, then sat, slipping a pillow onto his lap before she hit it. She smiled at him as she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cold cheek.

"I thought you wanted your cocoa," He teased her, and she smiled as she leaned in and kissed him.

"Hmm, I'm not so sold on that anymore," She let one hand slip down onto his chest.

"Really?" He leaned in and kissed her forehead, "That's a shame – it's delicious."

"I think I'll be ok."

"Fitz, you're so cold," She commented, as she ran her palm down the side of his face.

"Yeah, it's snowing outside," He replied as she unbundled herself from her blanket, and brought him into it with her, tossing the pillow aside and snuggling up to him, "What're you doing?"

"I'm warming you up."

Olivia spent the entire plane ride back to the East Coast not wanting to go back. Well, that wasn't really the issue here – the issue was was that she didn't want to leave Fitz in California. She was worried about what would happen to him once she wasn't there. He had nearly been in tears seeing her off at the airport, she knew that his plea to stay was only seconds away when she just kissed him goodbye and walked away. Sunday had been the only day that he seemed a little bit better over the course of the entire week – never mind just their weekend. It didn't really matter, of course, because well – it just didn't. She was worrying too much, he already had plans to fly out the next weekend. They would be fine. He would be fine. She was all in, so it really didn't matter if that was just how he was going to be – she could handle it. The back and forth, him being happy one minute, and then having nothing that could pull him back the next. She loved him, and being there for that was what that meant. He needed her.

"Welcome back," Stephen said as she walked into the office, the feeling of Fitz's lips on her's still vivid in her mind from the airport.

"What're we doing?" She asked, and he handed her about eight folders, "So we're doing pretty well."

"Hence me having to call you every couple of hours while you were away."

"I was a little busy, Stephen," Olivia replied.

"How is lover-boy?"

"Huck."

"I had to tell him something when you didn't come back right away with me," Huck said, walking out of his closet office with his laptop, not removing his eyes from the screen as he sat down at the main conference table, "Seemed just as good as anything else to tell him the truth."

"Your dating clients now?" Stephen questioned her, and she glared over at him.

"Fitz..."

"Needs fixing," Huck replied, still not looking up, "Which is what you do, yes?"

"It's not like that," Olivia replied, rolling her eyes.

"What is it like?" Stephen asked her, "Because in the eight years that I've known you, I don't think you've dated anybody more than once. Even that was a rare occurrence. And Huck says you're telling this guy you love him?"

"I'm a big girl, Stephen," She sighed.

"Are you?" Stephen asked, somewhat sarcastically as he tapped Huck's shoulder, "Huck, you've known her longer than me, has she ever had a boyfriend in your recollection?"

"Huck-"

"No," He replied, this time looking up and spinning his chair around to face them, "Not that I can remember."

She gave Huck her best glare. She knew it was probably no use – but did it anyway.

"C'mon, Liv," Stephen physically stepped between her and Huck, "We're just worried about you. It's not like you to fall for anyone – if in fact that's what you're doing. I think it's great you've found someone, but that's a hell of a guy to fall for. I mean, I feel awful for him, but he's got to be all kinds of-"

"I know," Olivia told him, "I know that, but I can't-"

"Oh, God," Stephen said, realization dawning on his face, "We're too late."

"Much, much too late," She replied, swallowing as she held up the case folders, "How were you planning on attacking these?"

"They're already mostly done," Stephen told her with a cheeky smile, "It was just part of my point. Harrison should be back from getting us coffee soon. The bottom one just came in."

"You have him fetching you two coffee?" There was mixture of shock and a little bit of disgust in her voice.

"We had him pick up your favorite too," Stephen told her, "Oh, c'mon. What's the fun in having a new guy if we can't abuse him a little bit?"

"This is his last coffee run," Olivia was stern, "He's already going to be pulling the short straw when it comes to assignments."

"Fine," Stephen said, and Olivia nodded.

She put the extra case folders back down on the table, where Stephen took them and went to put them away in the filing cabinet. She brought the remaining folder into her office with her and closed the door. It was so refreshing to have a new case. A case that didn't involve Fitz, or anything to do with him. She read over the notes, then stepped out into the main area to tell Harrison to call in the client for her to meet. It seemed like a fairly open and shut case, which was nice – she needed simple. She was nearly done before lunch, which was what she was heading to find when Fitz called her. He didn't seem to be in the best of moods, so she closed herself off in her office for a couple minutes to see if she could talk to him.

"Fitz," She smiled to herself as she leaned back at her desk.

"I miss you," He said almost instantly, and she took a deep breath.

"It's only been ten hours," She replied, checking her watch and doing the math quickly.

"I still miss you," He insisted, and she braced herself, "It's empty, and lonely here without you – and it's pretty damn cold too."

She smiled, easing up a little bit – she couldn't help it. That last little bit of what he said hid all the red flags that came with Fitz. It was like he could tell, even from as far away as he was that he was coming off as 'too clingy'. She wasn't sure if he could help himself, but he could also add in quite a bit of charm to ease it onto her. She wasn't even sure if he was being clingy, or if that was just how guys were with their girlfriends – she wouldn't know, she had never been one. She had never had one. She chuckled as she reached for her coffee, not able to summon any regrets in the early flight that morning versus the late flight the night before. She would have been fairly upset if she had been robbed of the that. She knew she had to go back, to D.C., to work, to responsibilities, but she just hated not being there with him.

"Well you have a pretty - "

"Girlfriend. And not just pretty, beautiful – who lives in D.C.," Fitz said, and Olivia rolled her eyes.

"...I was going to say 'pretty comfy afghan', that probably still smells like me if you're cold," She pointed out for the record, "I thought you and Cy were meeting to go over political strategies today."

"In about ten minutes," He replied and she nodded, not that he could hear that, "Why don't I just move out there?"

"Why don't you see how you like it this weekend first," Olivia suggested – there he went again, "It's a lot different here than it is in California."

"I think I need 'a lot different'," He said, and she saw at least a small portion of his point as Harrison tapped on her window and came into her office – sitting down to wait for her to be done.

It probably would help Fitz to be away from all of that.

"Ok," She took a deep breath, what was she supposed to say? He was a grown man, "I'll talk to you later, ok? Say 'hi' to Cyrus for me."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," She said, trying not to look at Harrison as she said it, "I'll talk to you later. Let me know what Cyrus thinks is the best next move."

"Will do."

She hung up.

"Yes, Harrison?"

"Liv's got a boyfriend..."

"I really need another woman around here," Olivia retorted, mostly to herself.

"We'll get used to it," Harrison assured her, "We've all just known you a long time, it's weird to hear you talking like that on the phone with a guy."

"Well, get used to it," Olivia told him, and he smiled.

"Good, this is good, Liv," Harrison said, and Olivia smiled, "Normal."

"Normal," She smiled, or at least as close as she was ever going to get.

Her phone, sitting on her desk started to ring again. She glanced down casually to check the Caller ID. 'Abby Putney'. She had missed a couple calls from her best female friend while she was in California, and actually now she thought about it, hadn't talked to her since before she left New York. She motioned to Harrison to get out of the room, and he hopped up and left as she hit 'send' and pressed her phone to her ear.

"Abby, how have you been?" Olivia asked, not taking a breath before continuing, "It's been crazy..."

Wait, it wasn't like Abby to not shoot something out between her sentences, especially when speaking socially.

"Abby?" She asked, and she heard a little sniffle, "Abby what's the matter?"

"I... we had a fight and Charles -" Abby broke off, but Olivia could fill in the blank, "I just got out of the hospital, I – I don't know how... I – Help me, Olivia."

"Stay right where you are," Olivia told her, "Don't let him know that you called."

Olivia hung up and threw her phone into her purse, and then that was over her shoulder as she went straight to the entrance to Huck's little closet office.

"Huck, you're coming with me."


	15. The Tire Irons

A/N: Hey everyone - enjoy :)

Trampled Roses

Chapter Fourteen: The Tire Irons

Huck knew better than to ask her for any details before they crossed the boarder into Virginia. The whole ride seh was fuming. It was her fault that Abby, her best friend, was in this situation in the first place. She had known when the Putneys had come to her to find a wife for Charles that he had the potential to be violent. That when he was drank he was nasty. She had been looking through the files and files of women she was planning on interviewing to meet him while Abby was over. Abby found the picture of Charles that Olivia had been working with. Half the struggle was finding someone they seemed to match with. If a couple didn't 'match' it was very hard for the public to find them believable. She hated political marriages, and it wasn't just because they rarely worked out - but because of the pain, shame, and desperation that often came with them. But, they were just part of the game, and if she was playing that was part of it. She warned Abby about it, but she wanted to meet him. She didn't warn her enough, though. She should have yelled, or screamed - made her a neon sign - Because what if it hadn't been a trip to the hospital, but to the morgue?

"What're we doing?" Huck asked her casually, avoiding making eye contact.

"We're going to get Abby."

"Your friend who's married to the senator's son?"

"Not for much longer," Olivia retorted, still speeding down the highway, "But yes."

Huck was quiet for the rest of the ride, because Huck was good at that. He was good at keeping his mouth shut at crucial times, good at knowing when no words were better than a lot. That's why she had brought him instead of Harrison, who rarely left any sort of gap between words. That, and there was just that little extra layer of comfort in bringing Huck along with her. Especially if there was a chance she was going to be confronting a probably drunk, probably violent, Charles Putney. She took a deep breath, Charles Putney didn't scare her. Losing Abby scared her, her mother scared her, Clara's future, Fitz, and anyone other than Huck involved in B613 scared her. An overgrown drunken frat boy, wit all his family's money and influence - spoiled - he didn't scare her. She wasn't stupid, seh might need a little more muscle, but she wasn't scared.

"How much further?" Huck asked once they had been winding through the suburbs for about a half an hour.

"We're just around the corner now."

Olivia took a right into the last little gated community as the clock on her dashboard flipped over to eleven'o'clock. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had been saying goodbye to Fitz at the airpoty. How could it be that two men could be so polar opposite? Both of them were from 'rich' families, political families. Yet, she had just spent the btter half of a month with Fitz trying to get him up to 'normal' standards. Not even confident, or cocky just enough so that he knew if he kissed her she wouldn't smack him away and publicly embarrass him about it later. How had teo men raised in virtually the same family climate ended up so differently?

"What're you going to do?" Huck asked her, sesning a little bit of the danger - probably because she had shut the lights off at the top of the street.

"I'm going to go in like it's a surprise visit," She said, "I can put on a whole Broadway musical if I have to, but I'm getting Abby out of that house - tonight. As soon as we're outside, if Charles comes with us - your job is to get Abby to the car."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Olivia asked as she got out of the car, "Stay here."

The garage door was open, and music was eminating from the heavily lit doorway. This meant that Charles was drinking tonight, probably a little too much, so Olivia braced herself. She plastered a happy smile, a friendly smile, onto her face and started up the driveway. Once seh got up close to the house, she got a very clear picture of what was goign on. Charles had put a lzy boy ouf in the garage, and was drinking - based on the bags of empties that lined the walls - he had been binge drinking. She could hear some kind of game on the TV over the music. She guessed it was hockey.

"Olivia," He said, she had wanted to get just close enought to tell if he was passed out - it would have made her job so much easier, "What're you-" Burp "Doing here?"

He had paused his sentence and waited for the burp - class act right there. She kept it friendly.

"I was just driving through," She replied calmly, "Thought I'd stop by and say hello - d'you think Abbs is still up?"

"I think she just went ot sleep - she's been pretty tired," Charles dai, then added in what was supposed to sound like he was teasing, "She took a tumble - pretty damn useless."

"Well, mind if I just go in and see?" Olivia asked, trying to sound summissive and harmless, "I just haven't had a chance to talk to her in a while."

She smiled, she hoped quite charmingly.

"Sure - go for it," Charles replied, "Whatever."

Olivia nodded, and went through the garage into the house. She was trying to keep everything as 'status quo'-like as possible, for as long as possible, until she could get Abby out safely. To get Abby out safely, she had to be and seem to be as nonthreatening as possible to Charles so that she could just get in. She walked through the kitchen, the dining room, and eventually into the living room with no sign of Abby. She had known that she was coming, she wouldn't have fled, she wouldn't be hiding, right? Olivia got to the stairs, and headed up to the bedroom. There she could hear a soft whimpering in the dark room.

"Abby?" Olivia said, flipping on the light, and stepping into the room - shutting the door behind her, "You ok?"

"No," She replied weakly, turning over.

Her face was almost completely covered in bruises of various colors.

"Oh my God."

"I lost him," She said, and Olivia furrowed her brow as she sat down on the bed with her.

"What? Abby..."

"I lost him," Abby said again, this time a little more firmly, "I was pregnant - "

"You were pregnant, and you lost the baby," Olivia repeated for clarity, and Abby nodded, "Is that why- you two were arguing?"

"...He wasn't ready to be a father," Abby replied, "My fault."

"No," Olivia told her without even giving it a thought, "C'mon, we're getting you out of here."

How? How could a man do that to his family? How could Charles do that to his wife? His pregnant wife? His child?

Abby had packed a bag, knowing her friend, and hidden it in the closet. Then, she had been pretending to be asleep until Olivia got there. She had, from what Olivia had understood, been pretending to be sleeping for about a week. Even Charles was above beating someone that was sleeping, minding their own business, and not really responding. He would let her heal up, and then he would go back to beating her. Apparently, it had happened before. The idea was that she didn't want it to happen again. Olivia took a deep breath as she threw Abby's bag over her shoulder as they headed down the stairs. Olivia was weary of Abby's apparently weakened state, but she seemed to navigate the stairs fine, and Olivia started to not worry so much. She led her out the front door, if they were lucky the way Olivia was thinking - they'd be in the car pulling away by the time that Charles even saw them, if they avoided the driveway. The only thing Olivia hadn't been planning on, was Huck on the outside of the car.

"Huck, what're you doing?" Olivia asked as she handed Abby the bag.

"Flat tire," He replied, "That's what happens when you just pick up and drive two hundred and fifty miles after not using it for almost a month."

"Are you almost done?" Olivia asked, noticing that there were tools all around him on the ground.

"Just putting the last little bit on the donut," He told her, "It should get us back to D.C."

"Good," Olivia said, checking to see if the car was still up on the jack - it wasn't, "Abby, hop in the car. Doesn't matter where you sit, Huck's probably more comfortable in the back anyway."

"Ok," Abby said quietly, tucking into the front seat with her bag.

Olivia crossed her arms, waiting for Huck to finish up with the tire. She heard her phone going off, just barely above the volume of a whisper, and pulled it out of her pocket. Fitz, she had told him that she would talk to him, right? She was reading his name on her caller ID, about to ignore it to call him back later, when she heard Abby pounding on the window. She put her phone back into her pocket, gave Abby a confused, questioning look. Then, she spotted what Abby was going on about in a portion of one of the car mirrors. Charles, drunk, stumbling, in a way that could be described as anything but graceful or limber. Fear, she let her heart skip a beat, because what choice did she have? Then, she reached down and grabbed a tire iron that Huck had just put down. She started strolling towards him, hoping that she would be able to talk about this with him.

"What's up, Chuck?" Olivia asked as she hid the iron against her leg - out of his immediate view.

"I know what you're doing - Bitch," Charles slurred, "Get my fucking wife..."

"That's not going to happen, Charles," Olivia replied, putting her business voice on.

"You bitch-"

He swung high, and Olivia ducked. She threw out her arm with the tire iron in hand, and hit him, but he didn't stop trying to hit her. She dodged again, and hit him in the knee - straight onto his knee cap as hard as she could summon the strength. When it worked and he stopped, she hit him in the other knee. At that point, Huck was calling to her that the car was all set, and she ran off towards the car. She could have sworn she slid across the hood of the car on her way to the driver's seat, and Huck climbed into the back seat. Charles wasn't even attempting to get up from the ground, where he was howling. The car screeched just a little bit as she pulled away from the curb, and Huck protested.

"It's just a donut," Huck told her, "It should barely get us to D.C. Be careful with it."

"Sorry," Olivia replied, easing her foot on the gas pedal as they exited the little community.

"Don't forget to call your boyfriend back."

Olivia decided that given everything, it probably wouldn't be best to shoot right back up to D.C. They stuck around, and got the car fixed while Olivia filed, and helped Abby fill out all her paperwork. It would be best to file the divorce papers in the same county that they had been living in - never mind the restraining order. They stayed in a little hotel on the outskirts of the next town over from where Abby had been living, and handled everything that they could manage. Charles was either too drunk to remember, or saw that he didn't have a case about his knees, and they apparently served him both the restraining order and the divorce papers while he was in the hospital.

"Wait," Olivia asked, as she and walked into their room at the hotel where they had set up shop after walking to pick up the car.

Her first instinct was to leave Huck with Abby as much as was possibly, but very quickly realized that wasn't the best idea. Abby - in all of Olivia's years of knowing her she never thought she'd be describing her like this - was a little skittish. At least of Huck, and it made sense, or was as close to making sense as anything did at that point. If she were Abby, not really knowing Huck at all - he would be way more likely to be the wife beater than Charles would. It made sense that she was a little afraid, and kept an eye on him as much as possible. - But why was there something Olivia felt like she was forgetting?

"What?"

"What day is it?" She asked them and Abby looked down at her phone.

"Thursday, at four," Abby told her, setting her phone down on the table, "Why?"

"We have to get back to D.C.," Olivia replied - shit, in all the excitement, Fitz's plane was getting in in the morning, "We have all the foundations ready, we can do the rest of this from D.C. It's time to get out of here."

"Ok," Abby said.

"We'll leave in the morning?" Huck asked, and Olivia shook her head.

"We leave tonight."

Huck just stared at her for a second, and looked at his watch as her phone started to ring.

"Of course," He replied, and Olivia took a deep breath, 'Fitz'.

"Alright, pack up, you two," Olivia said, and she went off into her own room to do so herself, "Hi."

"Hi," He replied, sounding a little bit relieved - like he wasn't sure she was going to pick up, "So what's going on? Am I still coming this weekend? Because if I am..."

"Of course you are," Olivia replied, laying down on the bed for a minute to take a breath, "Your plane gets in at nine tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," He replied, sounding even more relieved.

"I never called you."

"...no," Fitz replied, and she knew that he probably would have never brought it up.

"I'm sorry, I just got so busy," She said, taking a deep breath, "I got stuck on a case - you know how that is."

"Stuck?" He asked.

"Well, not all my cases end the same way," Olivia assured him.

"Good, then there's still a point in me coming?"

"Of course, I miss you," Olivia told him, crossing her legs and fluffing the pillow under her neck, "I'm excited to pick you up tomorrow - I'm actually thinking of taking the day off."

"Ah-"

"What?"

"I thought I might be hearing things," He said, "But did I just hear Olivia Pope admit to missing me? Missing anyone? So much so that she's willing to take a day off?"

"You're mean."

"You love me," He told her, and she smiled.

"I do," She replied, "Plus, tomorrow's day isn't very long. But, I might have someone at my apartment this weekend. Actually, I'm going to, and in doing that - I get to work from home."

"Another guy?" He teased her.

"No, a friend," Olivia said, "She's having a little bit of a rough time."

"Ok, I think I can handle it," Fitz replied, "As long as I get to be there with you."

"It's a small apartment."

"I don't take up that much space," He replied, "Just clear out about a five foot radius around you..."

"I think I can do that," She said, and it actually was very tempting sounding, "That sounds nice."

"Cyrus seems to think that D.C. would be the best option, too," Fitz told her, "It seems that the whole - incident - was national news."

"...it was..."

"So he thinks that relocating, picking up a lobby," He siad, and Olivia took a breath, "Work with the law degree in helping with working on recreating my image."

"Recreating your image?" Olivia repeated.

"It's just one option," He said, and Olivia looked over at the clock on her wall.

"Hey, I have to go," She told him, "Give me a call when you land, so I'll know when to start up the engine again and heat up the car for you."

"Oh, c'mon," He replied, and she smiled playfully, "If I remember correctly, you were the one that needed to warm up right away..."

"I'll see you in the morning," She told him, and hung up.

It took her all of twenty minutes to pack up her little room, and then she and Huck loaded up the car. Abby had regained a lot of the strength she had lost, but she was still relatively slow, and wasn't supposed to be lifting a lot. Or so said the third doctor Olivia had made her go to see before she would ease up. She felt responsible for this, and there was no way she was going to let anything else happen to Abby. She had her usual doctor check her out, and she was fine. Battered, bruised, and in a little bit of shock, but she was fine. Olivia then, thinking the doctor may have been talking to Charles, brought her to two other ones just to make sure. Needless to say, Olivia was actually pretty happy to be getting out of Virginia, she thought that everyone was. Especially Huck, who had been going a little stir crazy in the tiny towns they were inhabiting.

They got to Olivia's at midnight, where she had just enough time to get Abby settled in her guest room and go to bed for a couple hours before she had to go and get Fitz at the airport. She woke up at seven, to shower and get ready. Then she decided to be a cute girlfriend and stop at the bagel shop on the way to the airport, to get him something warm to eat once he was in the car. She snagged his favorite. f Abby's she tossed into the backseat to deliver to her once they got home.. She pulled into the airport at almost exactly nine-fifteen, as her phone was ringing.

"What?" She asked, not looking at the caller as she took a sip of her coffee.

"Well," She heard Fitz's velvet voice, "I just got off a plane and landed on the other side of the country, and there's this gorgeous woman sitting in a - what is that? A Lexus? I'm lousy with cars, sorry - here to pick me up. And she's downing that coffee like it did something awful to her. You want me to punch it for you?"

"Maybe once I'm done," SHe replied, not quite getting the humor.

"Long week, huh?" He said, opening the back door and sliding his bag onto the seat.

"You have no idea," She said as he slipped onto the front seat, and she handed him his bagel, "Breakfast."

"Well, maybe I'll be able to help you relax a little," He said, bypassing the bagel and kissing her softly - then took the bagel, "Priorities."


End file.
